


Clockwork Heart

by RoksanaLyasin



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Attempted Seduction, Attraction, Awkward Romance, BAMF Tony Stark, Canon Divergence - Post Iron Man 1, Canon-Typical Violence, Chaptered, Conspiracy, Crime Fighting, Criminal Masterminds, Danger, Desire, Electricity, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fights, Flirting, Heroes & Heroines, Injury, Injury Recovery, Iron Man 1, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) is a Good Bro, Light Angst, Living Together, Major Original Character(s), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Originally Posted Elsewhere, Physical hurt/comfort, Post-Iron Man 1, Protective Tony Stark, Romance, Seduction, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Smut, Snarky Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Stark Industries, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark-centric, Vigilantism, Violence, acquired powers, multi chapter fic, powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-05-09 18:55:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 44,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14721708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoksanaLyasin/pseuds/RoksanaLyasin
Summary: Tony Stark's life has changed surprisingly little since his big announcement. Well, apart from the fact that Stark Industries now lay in Pepper Potts' capable, focused hands. Relieved of the title and position of CEO, his focus has turned to developing and upgrading his suit, and to researching the newly discovered element sustaining his life. He thinks he's the only one cleaning up the mean streets of Los Angeles in his free time.Until he meets the Alchemist.Aviana's hopes to change the world as a scientist had long been crushed. She has nothing left to lose in her fight against her former employer, a global company bent on selling her work to the highest bidder. In a desperate effort to help the city she loves while she bides her time, Aviana has turned to a life of crime fighting. Her title - the Alchemist - is whispered forebodingly among criminal elements at every level of Los Angeles society.She's certain that Tony Stark will only bring her trouble... just not in the way she expects.Tony/OC. Post Iron Man 1, canon-divergent thereafter.





	1. Catalyst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _...Her ears twitched as the hum of compact jets – high-pitched, almost singing – broke through the traffic noise just as heavy drops began to fall._ Stark _, she thought as she turned down an alley, her steps slow and steady as if she walked this way every night, but beneath the long sleeves of her coat, she flexed her fingers, preparing to morph the rings on her fingers into tips as she heard him drop lower. She cracked her knuckles, fingers itching with the desire to strike. It was one thing to encounter him by chance. The fact that he’d followed her tore at her nerves. She did not take well to being followed, not when she knew her old bosses still hunted her, not when men had tried to take her dignity and her life in an alley very much like this one._

* * *

**Chapter One**  
**Catalyst**

The stars shone brightly above Tony, a beautiful sight that helped him block out Jarvis’ pompous voice as the AI prattled in his ear about the newly updated navigation system as if Tony wasn’t the one who’d designed and installed it. He wondered if he should switch up Jarvis’ accent – French, maybe, or even Southern for something different – but he realised that technobabble would likely be just as tedious to listen to regardless of how pleasant the AI sounded.

‘I trust that you’re fascinated by these facts, Sir.’

 _Oh, was that exasperation in Jarvis's tone?_  Tony wondered, chuckling to himself before he said, ‘absolutely, Jarvis. Completely and positively captivated.’ 

‘Of course, Sir. Perhaps you’d be more interested in the fracas currently taking place on the docks.’

‘Fracas?’

Tony glanced down to his left – it seemed Jarvis had noticed a disturbance, the first they’d encountered this week. Interest piqued at the unusual sight, he flew lower to circle quietly overhead, just below the cloud line. The docks were usually quiet at this time, only a few staff moving around, but there appeared to be a crowd gathering.

‘Zoom in Jarvis. Let’s see what this is about.’

Two sides were forming, each headed by a leader. It appeared casual enough, each of the men standing or leaning nearby as the discussion carried on. Behind one group there were numerous crates, the usual shipping markings stamped and painted all over, but the tension developing between the opposing men suggested they weren’t exchanging imported stuffed toys.

‘What do you think Jarvis? Should we take a closer look?’

Before his AI companion could answer Tony dropped carefully to the ground in an alleyway between two old rusted warehouses that creaked and groaned as the wind whirled around them. He could hear their voices even from his hidden position, their conversation amplified in the suit until it filled his ears as if he were standing in the thick of it. He peeked around the corner to see who was talking, to match voices to faces as the conversation started to get down to business.

‘The money, Davis,’ the leader to the left said, his jaw set, with obvious frustration, ‘where is it?’

‘Coming,’ Davis said, a smirk on his thin lips, ‘as soon as you show me the product, I show you the cash. Now, give me a look Gregor, so we can wrap up this transaction already.’ 

Gregor pursed his lips before he turned to walk towards the first crate. As he took a pry bar from one of his cronies Tony scanned the faces of the groups, seeing only hardened expressions and thick muscles corded around bulky frames. Tony was unsurprised to see them sporting weapons freely. Some had their guns tucked into the backs of their pants or strapped into slings that hung beside their ribs, and Tony had no doubts that each and every one was illegal. Jarvis didn’t need to instructed – he’d already started to document each and every face, was already compiling a report for the local police. It was easy enough when the groups clearly hadn’t expected an audience for the clandestine exchange; none of them bothered to conceal their faces – except for one. He stood at the back of the buying side, a heavy black hood draped over his head, face concealed by shadows. Wearing a baggy jumper and track pants it was likely that he carried a weapon like the others, but he was smart enough to keep it concealed. 

The wooden crate splintered around the nails and the side fell open. It took all of Tony’s limited impulse control to stay in his place as the poorly secured semi-automatics slid out, toppling onto the concrete. 

_Definitely not imported stuffed toys._

Unfortunately, he wasn’t surprised he recognised each and every piece. A few of Stark Industry’s shipments – destined for a US military base before he’d stopped munitions production altogether – had gone missing on their journey. They were bound to turn up eventually.

‘Sir, I believe I have enough photos. Shall we interrupt?’ It was Jarvis’ gentle way of informing him that the police had been contacted, and it was time to detain the two groups. He did a quick count; fourteen men in total. _Easy pickings._

‘Wait, Sir.’

‘Wait?’ Tony hissed, ‘you just said it was time to interrupt.’

‘The hooded one, they’re going for something in their jacket pockets.’ 

‘And I’m stopping because…?’

‘It doesn’t appear to be a gun.’

Tony watched intently as the man pulled his hands from the pockets, a metallic flash dancing between the tips of his fingers before he reached for the men in front of him, a cry escaping their lips when he placed his hands on their shoulders. They shot forward and the mob fell like dominos. The group who were unloading the weapons from the crate turned, drawn by the cries and thumps as bodies fell flat on their faces. Curses tumbled from Gregor’s lips and he reached for the back of his jeans, jerking a gun out and signalling to his men that a fight was on. More weapons appeared, dark metal flashing dully in the muted light of the docks. Tony took a step forward, planning to intervene, but a burst of white light shot from the hooded man’s fingertips like a shockwave and the raised weapons flew from their grasps before exploding above their heads. White hot metal shards rained down upon the thugs, scalding their hands as they tried to shield their faces, but the men who had avoided the worst of the shrapnel with their hoods and gloves lunged forward with fists at the ready. The hooded man easily ducked under their meaty arms and avoided their clumsy footwork, tossing them like ragdolls despite his petite stature.

Tony leant against the warehouse wall to watch the fight unfold. After all, it seemed the matter was in good hands, though he wondered how the hooded man – maybe even just a boy with such a small stature – found such strength. And how was he using the metal covers on his fingertips?

Soon, all but Davis and Gregor lay writhing on the ground in pain; the rest were fortunate enough to have fallen unconscious and avoided further punishment at the hands of their attacker. Their cronies would be no help to them now, and they knew it. The two joined forces, flanking the hooded man, sweat tracking down their temples as they stole nervous glances around at the destruction he had wrought.

‘Who the fuck are you?’ Gregor spat, but he’d lost the edge in his voice, his jaw no longer set, his eyes no longer hard or intimidating.

The hooded man stood silently between them and reached slowly for his jacket, unzipping it. Davis and Gregor’s hands twitched but he did not reach in for a weapon. Instead, he shrugged it off his shoulders, making Davis’s, Gregor’s _and_ Tony’s eyebrows fly up their brows as the stranger revealed a metallic mask and a black leather jacket moulded to a slim waist and shapely curves. A gulp worked Tony’s throat as they reached for the loose track pants that concealed their true figure, the material disintegrating in a rush of fire ignited by sparks from the metallic fingertips, and then the light and smoke faded, revealing shapely legs bound in leather.

‘Jarvis,’ Tony muttered, pausing to clear his throat as he watched sparks dance between the metal fingertips, ‘that’s… that’s not a man.’

‘Indeed, Sir.’

Tony’s curiosity quickly sharpened, his patience evaporating. He stepped forward and walked with sure steps towards the three where they faced off, his footsteps echoing off the concrete. All three looked his way when they first heard the metallic _clanks_ and _chinks_ of his suit, and the thugs’ eyes shot wide when they saw him. Davis stumbled backwards, glancing to the others as if to say ‘take him, leave me’ as Tony advanced.

‘Well, that’s awkward,’ Tony said, voice distorted by the suit. He stopped a few metres away, kicking one of the unconscious men aside nonchalantly, only gentle enough to leave him with no broken bones. ‘Seems I’m late for the party. Fashionably late, though.’

‘Iron Man,’ Gregor muttered, eyes darting as he looked for an escape, taking a step back. Tony brought his hand up to display the repulsor, a high-pitched sound filling the air as he charged it with power.

‘Please man,’ Davis said putting his hands up, ‘just take me to the cops. I'll go quietly. Don’t shoot me with that thing!’

Beneath the mask of his suit, Tony smirked, shrugging as he said, ‘it’s just easier to carry criminals when they’re unconscious. They flail less.’

The strange, leather-clad woman dropped suddenly, sweeping the thugs’ feet out from under them. Davis and Gregor hit the concrete hard but she didn’t seem to notice. Her gaze was locked on Tony; he could feel her scalding stare through the suit even though her eyes were barely visible beneath the moulded metal mask concealing her face.

‘I'm sorry, I’m not so used to a woman of so few words,’ he said, ‘but if you don’t want to talk, maybe you could just toss me on my back like you did those men? You do have to buy me a drink first though.’

She tilted her head, the metal on her fingertips singing as she rubbed them together, sparks flying with the slow circular motion. She remained silent, watching every minute move he made with a cold calculation that had him wondering if he should take back his words. He shook himself mentally; she was a low-level vigilante. Nothing to worry about.

‘So,’ he continued, pacing around her, Davis, and Gregor, ‘you use electricity. Feel like explaining that to me?’

Still, the docks remained silent but for the occasional moan from one of the downed men.

Tony paused again. ‘You really don’t talk much.’

She chuckled, soft and feminine as it resonated from beneath the finely moulded mask, the brilliant shine of the metal obscuring any distinguishing features, reflecting the world around her. She took a step back, the metal continuing to sing at her fingertips as she uttered one word: ‘Duck.’

‘Wh–?’

He heard a scuffle behind him and shot sideways on instinct, his eyes still locked on her. She stepped away from a blinding beam of light one of Gregor’s cronies fired at her. Tony dared a glance over his shoulder, the sound of the singing metal drowned out by the crackling of the bolts that flew from the weapon.

The last weapon he’d designed.

‘Get out of the way!’ he called, watching as she dropped beneath the beam, barely avoiding it as she began to advance. Tony took a chance, charging his repulsors and blasting the thug sideways but another of the cronies had caught onto the idea. Tony charged another blast, even knowing he would be too late. He shouted a warning she seemed to ignore, and instead of dodging she planted her feet as electricity shot from the weapon. She turned _towards_  the bolt, facing it fully. Sparks danced between her fingertips as she took the full impact, every inch of her visible skin glowing with blinding light. Tony couldn’t believe his eyes; she was absorbing it, revelling in it, and still, she moved, reaching beneath the sleeve of the jacket to her wrist. 

The beam finally stopped, the energy clip expended. The crony stared at her, frozen in place in sheer terror. Finally, he stumbled backwards and the weapon clattered to the ground, words of prayer falling from his lips, a name following that definitely quirked Tony’s interest.

 _The Alchemist_.

She held her hand up, twirling something silver on the metal tip of her finger, which had turned into a fine, sharp point. She flicked the item into the air and caught it between her middle and forefinger, a vicious, falsely sweet laugh echoing across the docks as the throwing star glowed menacingly.

‘Thanks for the recharge.’

She threw the star at the man’s feet and a burst of light flashed before him, the crony falling back as the explosion’s shockwave hit. She glanced at Tony, catching his gaze. ‘Later, Stark. You can manage from here, I'm sure.’

She turned, picking up the heavy jacket she’d discarded earlier, zipping it and flicking the heavy hood up. Tony couldn’t find the will to move, his eyes fixed on her hands as the metal on her fingertips rolled up and over her knuckles, turning to rings as she walked away. When he could finally shake off the wonder that had overtaken his senses he wanted desperately to follow her, but Jarvis’s voice sounded in his ear like an irritating, poorly timed conscience.

‘Sir, I strongly suggest that you restrain these men and notify the police.’

Tony gritted his teeth, wanting desperately to ignore Jarvis and follow the intriguing stranger, to find out how she’d survived the blast of electricity from a weapon he knew could fry a person from twenty feet. He should have been more interested in tracing the import of the stolen weapons but all he could think about was whether there had been any truth in what that man had said.

_Alchemist._

Tony had heard whisperings from the criminals he’d taken down recently about a vigilante, one called the Alchemist. He’d thought they were just rumours, little ghost stories that he always heard exchanged between the scum of Los Angeles to scare the newbie criminals. Maybe there was truth to the stories, ones that ranged from intriguing to ridiculous? Some he’d heard spoke of the Alchemist’s ability to morph metal. Others, of exploding stars just like the one she had thrown. But, much as his curiosity begged to be sated, the AI made a good point. They really did need to find the rest of the weapons.

‘Okay Jarvis,’ he said finally, resigned to spending some time with the local boys in blue, ‘make the call.’

* * *

The woman known in the underworld only as ‘The Alchemist’ smiled beneath her mask as she strolled away from another successful bust. Electricity tingled on her skin, the air filled with the sweet humidity of the oncoming storm rolling slowly over the city. Her first face to face encounter with Iron Man had been… interesting, to say the least. She was surprised she hadn’t bumped into the famous superhero before that night, considering how long she’d been moonlighting as a vigilante, but he usually targeted the bigger fish. She may have been in hiding but she wasn’t living in isolation; she had watched the news, watched as he brought a new era of peace into his little part of the world after his surprise announcement.

Los Angeles’ crime rates hadn’t exactly improved, though. It had in some ways – there were fewer major weapons and drug deals occurring – but even the great Tony Stark would never phase out crime completely. She could spend the rest of her life fighting in the back streets trying to make the city safer but there would always be someone to take the place of a heavy-handed pimp or drug lord. So, she’d just do what she could, for now, would keep training and planning as she worked towards the men she truly wanted to destroy.

Her ears twitched as the hum of compact jets – high-pitched, almost singing – broke through the traffic noise just as heavy drops began to fall. _Stark_ , she thought as she turned down an alley, her steps slow and steady as if she walked this way every night, but beneath the long sleeves of her coat, she flexed her fingers, preparing to morph the rings on her fingers into tips as she heard him drop lower. She cracked her knuckles, fingers itching with the desire to strike. It was one thing to encounter him by chance. The fact that he’d followed her tore at her nerves. She did not take well to being followed, not when she knew her old bosses still hunted her, not when men had tried to take her dignity and her life in an alley very much like this one. 

She heard him touch down behind her, silent but for the light clunk of metal on the pavement. If she hadn’t trained her ears so carefully she might not have heard it in the pelting rain and the buzz of static from the storm churning above. As he neared she realised she could _feel_ him, could feel the power radiating from his suit.

As soon as thunder started to rumble in the sky she turned, the rings rolling to coat her fingertips as she reached into her left sleeve and gripped one of the nails hooked into the leather. Electricity sparked on her hands and she threw the nail as hard as she could, knowing that Stark would be smirking in his suit, thinking that nothing could harm him while he wore his iron facade. As the _clap_ of the thunder reached its crescendo an explosion tore through the alley, Tony’s startled cry drowned out by the boom. He barely retained his balance, his feet dragging shallow furrows into the concrete. When she moved to throw the second nail his arms shot up, crossing over his face to defend himself, his feet scraping only inches as the second explosion hit.

Tony stared at her from behind his crossed arms, waiting for another blow that would not come. She simply stared at him, waiting patiently as he lowered his arms and inspected the scratches in the armour.

 _Were they there already?_ he wondered, not known that his assailant smirked beneath her mask.

‘It’s not polite to follow a lady down a dark alley,’ she said, her hands dropping to her sides, the metal on her fingers singing with the circular motions she traced across her fingertips with her thumb.

‘Well, maybe you shouldn’t go down dark alleys,’ he said, ignoring the scalding that Jarvis was giving him up one side and down the other for following her. He was tempted to mute his AI companion; the pompous accent grated on his nerves.

She chuckled. ‘Oh Tony, you should know better,’ she said. The storm was nearing, the rain growing heavier, electricity dancing across her skin as lighting strikes danced on the buildings around them. ‘I think you need a new name; Iron Man just doesn’t suit you tonight. How about Stark the Stalker? I think it’s perfect… you are stalking me, after all.’

‘I wasn’t stalking you, I was just–’

Tony cursed, lifting his arms in time to defend himself from as a nail sailed straight at his eye, the flash nearly blinding him as thunder clapped above, covering the boom of the explosion. 

‘Why did you follow me?’

Tony didn’t have time to dwell on the snarl that echoed in her voice. She tossed another nail, advancing on him. She kept moving, throwing the nails as the storm above raged above as if she could sense the timing of the strikes. Little did he know how right he was or how well the lightning fuelled her. He could spend little time wondering as he blocked her every assault, moving back with each hit until he brought his hand up to charge the repulsor in warning.

‘I don’t want to,’ he said, the white disc shining through the darkness of the alley, ‘but I will if I have to.’

She paused but he caught the glint of nails between her middle and forefingers. Electricity danced across her coat, sparking ever closer to the metal in and on her hands.

This wasn’t over.

‘Why did you follow me?’ she asked again as lightning sizzled in the air. She absorbed the energy gladly, ready to continue the fight. What she received from lightning was unlike the strength she could take form any other source, and she hoped that the storm would be directly above her soon, the strikes hitting the ground at her feet to fuel her with the purest form of electricity. 

‘I was curious,’ Tony admitted with a contained shrug, though he did not drop his hand, the repulsor still charged and ready, ‘can’t I be curious?’

‘Not in my world.’

She leapt forward without warming, the nails shooting ahead of her. As he shielded himself from the explosion she ducked beneath his arm and swung onto his back. He reached for her, struggling in the suit, but she held on tight as she pressed her hand against the neck, electricity dancing over her skin before a shockwave shot from her fingertips. She hoisted herself higher, using the leverage she gained by standing on his hips to flip backwards and distance herself from him. He grasped the helmet as sparks ignited from the neck.

‘Having a little trouble, Stark?’ she asked, chuckling at her handiwork, ‘maybe a few technical difficulties?’

Tony turned towards her, the golden mask of his suit no longer shielding his face from view. He quirked an eyebrow at her but his smirk was strained.

‘Don’t worry Stark,’ she said, ‘I just shorted your systems. They’ll be back up and running in about fifteen minutes. So, you sit tight, and hopefully no one will come down this alley looking for trouble or an autograph, otherwise, you’ll have to explain how Iron Man was so easily put out of commission.’

‘Why are you so angry at me for following you?’

She shrugged, and he wondered if she was smirking as she asked, ‘who said anything about being angry? I just thought I should teach you to have some manners.’

She turned to walk away and Tony pursed his lips. He needed a way to bide some time. She’d easily lose him in the crowd if he was forced to follow her on foot – he’d be mobbed the moment he stepped out onto the footpath. It was a long shot, he knew, but he said it anyway: ‘You can hide behind that mask but I know who you are.’

He knew he’d struck a chord when she stiffened, pausing before she reached the end of the alley. She glanced back over her shoulder, refusing to face him as she said, ‘you can’t.’

 _Keep it up. You’ve got her_ , he thought before he said, ‘I also know that you’re not just angry, you’re scared. Why’s that, Alchemist?’

Just as he knew he’d struck a chord before, he knew his gambit had failed. Her posture eased and she turned to face him.

‘Cute, Stark. Playing the Prince-Charming-and-Damsel-in-Distress card might work with your Barbie dolls, but it doesn’t work with me,’ she said, ‘you’re nothing to fret over, not when your life is currently in my hands.’

She reached into her sleeve, this time finding one of her throwing stars. Her forefinger morphed into a point right before his eyes, the metal singing as she began to spin the star. It soon turned into a blur of silver and white as electricity charged through it. Tony flicked his mask down and brought his hands up to shield his face from another explosion when she threw it at him but it never came. He cracked his eyes open and glanced at his arm, but with the ‘lights out’ in the suit he wasn’t sure he was seeing the sight before him. He flicked up the faceplate again and, sure enough, the shining star was embedded in the metal gauntlet.

‘How the hell…?’ He couldn’t finish the question. The start shouldn’t have been able to do more than scratch it, and yet two points were completely buried.

‘You might want to know that you have about fifteen minutes before that explodes, maybe less if lightning hits too close. And if a little ol’ nail was bad...’ She shrugged. ‘Well, I’m sure you can imagine the damage that star would do. So, as soon as your suit is back up and running you might want to rush home and figure out a way to get rid of it instead of stalking me. You wouldn’t want to lose your hand, would you?’

He smirked at her, reaching for the star, but her quiet _tut-tut_ made him pause.

‘I wouldn’t do that, Stark,’ she said.

‘Worried I’ll cut myself?’

‘No, but to get that star out you have to drag it from metal. I’m sure you can guess what will happen.’ She rubbed her fingers in that circular motion, electricity sparking on her skin, his face sinking as realisation dawned on him. She’d charged the star but she hadn’t… activated it? It was the only conclusion he could come to. Perhaps, he thought, it wasn't best to tempt fate, not when thunder clapped loudly over his head and-

Tony ducked instinctively when the bolt came down into the alley. He expected the Alchemist to do the same but she raised her arm to the sky, catching the lightning in her hand. More thunder roared, the sound and the image burned into his mind with a mixture of awe and horror. He did not dare move as she turned on her heel, the tips of her fingers singing as she walked away.

* * *

A part of her was sure Tony wouldn’t follow her after such a daring display but she still picked up her pace as soon as she was out of sight, breaking into a run as she weaved through back alleys, the metal fingertips morphing to rings once again. She listened carefully, straining to pick up the sounds of his flight if he tried to follow her, and was relieved when she heard only the roll of thunder, the spark of electricity, and the familiar sounds of the city.

She reached her apartment, shaking water off her coat in the hall. She hung just inside the door, locking it tight before she headed to her bedroom and – finally – removed her mask. She traced the formed metal fondly, following the contours before she placed it on the bedside table, her thoughts turning towards the long hot shower she longed to indulge in before bed.

It would be a while before she could sleep; the storm raging over the city filled her with energy, but she still lay down, knowing rest would help her absorb every spark. She would be stronger tomorrow and, after work, she would return to the streets, hoping to edge closer to the men who had destroyed her.

Hoping that Tony Stark would forget her.

* * *

Tony almost wished his suit had stayed fried when Jarvis booted up, instantly starting to prattle in his ear. Well, more accurately, scold. Tony did his best to ignore the AI as he shot into the air and returned home; it was a difficult task, the AI taking on a rare, almost frantic tone when Tony explained the predicament of the throwing star.

Sweat beaded on his brow as he carefully extracted the throwing star, cringing every time metal squeaked. As he worked to remove the shining metal from his suit he couldn’t help but wonder how she had managed to embed the star in his armour in the first place, considering that he been hit by countless explosions that had barely left a mark. Still, a thought for later, he decided, as the star finally cleared. He rushed to the nearest window and tossed it into the night. For a moment, as he watched the metal flash in the muted moonlight, he thought she had been bluffing. But as the star began to fall to the sea it exploded in a great flash of light that rivalled the lightning of the storm, making Tony stumble backwards with shock.

As his suit was removed he continued to ignore Jarvis, unable to drag his thoughts from the mysterious vigilante. She had laughed, yes, chuckled even, but he knew there was something off about it, something strained. She was scared of _something_. Definitely not him, Jarvis pointed out kindly, as she had clearly demonstrated by jumping on his back. 

So what _was_ she scared of? 

Tony settled into a chair, the two computer screens before him waking at the movement. Jarvis was already running a search for him, displaying the news articles and rumours that featured her, though none of them showing pictures.

_The Alchemist._

‘She’s going to drive me insane, Jarvis,’ Tony admitted as he kicked his feet up on the desk, leaning back in his chair. He scrubbed at his bearded chin with palm, perhaps in an effort to scratch the itch in his mind.

‘Must be the mask, Sir,’ Jarvis suggested. The AI had been particularly sassy tonight. 

‘She took a hit of electricity from a weapon that has enough power in it to fry anyone or anything in its path and she just _stood_ there, opening her arms to it like she enjoyed it,’ he mused aloud, though he knew that only Jarvis and Butterfingers would pay any attention, ‘then, in that alley she drew that strike to her. She seemed to _absorb_ it. Anyone else would have been thrown by a nearby strike on the concrete and be lucky to survive, let alone willingly attract one.’

Jarvis didn’t respond this time. Tony had to admit he was thankful; he was too busy staring at the screens, watching as article after article scrolled past. He grabbed one, enlarging it to read the descriptions that witnesses had provided, but it was of little use. Each varied greatly from the others, not only in appearance but also in abilities.

The woman was a puzzle, a mystery, he decided, one he desperately wanted to solve.


	2. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _...He turned back to the Alchemist. To his sheer disbelief, she was still standing, and she was facing him. He felt her glare sear him even through the suit. ‘I–’ she swayed, raising her hand to warn him away when he took a step towards her– ‘I’m going to kill you, Stark–’ she dropped to her knees, her sharp intake of breath piercing the air before she collapsed on her side..._

 

 

* * *

 **Chapter Two**  
**Secrets**

Tony stared down at an alley from his perch on a building, a strange sense of satisfaction coursing through his veins as he watched the Alchemist clash with a group of four men. He tried to tell himself that it was borne of an interest in the fight, not because he’d been on the lookout for her for the last few days. He tried to tell himself that he’d not meant to follow her at all: he’d merely picked up on the sound of gunshots and, knowing there was trouble, had gone to investigate. Much as he’d hoped for another opportunity to tangle with this mysterious woman, it was a big city. He’d never thought _she_ would be there.

She wore that same heavy leather coat, the occasional flash of metal visible beneath the hood as she danced around the four men. His instincts screamed at him to assist, but another part recognised something in her fight, her taunting moves and her slowed steps. She was deliberately drawing out the conflict. It was a familiar scene. If he were to hazard a guess, she’d encountered these men before, but her anger was not that of a vigilante who wanted to stop criminals. It was personal, evident in the vicious nature of her attacks, meant to cause pain more than to incapacitate. 

She wanted to punish them, needed to.

He’d felt that desire before, had acted on it after escaping his imprisonment in that godforsaken desert. He understood her motivation, yet he found himself leaning closer. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from joining the fight for much longer, not when every shot came close to hitting her, even though she dodged and destroyed the bullets and used shockwaves to send their aim off course just before they squeezed the trigger. But the odds were not in her favour. One against four… it would take only one small mistake and the next bullet would find its target, whatever part of her body that may be. It didn’t matter how skilled she appeared to be in a fight. If she didn’t finish off her opponents soon, they would find the upper hand. 

The thought made Tony twitch, one boot sliding until he was perched precariously on the edge of the brick ledge. He thought to keep himself there, to watch a moment longer – surely she would end the fight soon? – but she continued on, unaware that one of her disabled opponents was beginning to recover. He’d been writhing on the ground, but he now rose on shaking arms before he brought himself to his feet, and he clutched at his head with meaty hands as if to steady himself for a moment before he bent to pick up his gun.

Tony dropped from his perch, landing just behind the man. The thug was so focused on his weapon as he checked for ammunition that he didn’t hear the metallic thud of Tony’s boots. Before the man could raise his weapon, Tony tapped him on the shoulder. The thug swung around, stumbling backwards, almost choking on his surprised intake of breath. He aimed at Tony and Tony raised his hands in what he hoped was a non-threatening gesture. The man hesitated for a moment; perhaps in surprise or maybe because his mind was still rattled by the beatdown he’d received from the Alchemist. No matter the reason, it was a moment long enough for Tony to reach out, take the gun, and crush it in his fist. The thug’s mouth hung open at the sight, the reality of his situation sinking in; he didn’t fight when Tony reached for him and tossed him aside, his focus returning to the mysterious woman he knew only as the Alchemist.

He stepped in front of her, repulsors charged to knock the group back. He took out two, charging another blast to knock the last man down, pleased with himself as they scrambled up between shouts to sprint for the end of the alley.

 _That’s it. Run home, tails between your legs._ A smirk crossed Tony’s lips at the thought, but it was short-lived. He was thrown forward, his boots scraping furrows into the concrete. Before he could regain his balance he was hit by another shockwave, this one sending him crashing into a row of rubbish cans. He straightened, just raising his arms in time to block the nail she threw at him, the explosion filling the alley with blinding light.

‘What the hell–’ he blocked another nail– ‘what is your–’ he had to plant his feet to prevent himself from being thrown sideways by a third shockwave of electricity, one that had Jarvis warning him to tread lightly. He stayed still, waiting until he was sure she’d finished her assault before he straightened to his full height and dropped his arms to his sides.

‘What is your problem?’ he asked, a little harsher than he intended, ‘I just saved your life.’

‘I didn’t need saving,’ she growled, a metallic ring in her voice as it echoed beneath the mask, her fingers curling, sparks flaring from her fisted hands, ‘you let them get away!’

Tony didn’t have time to respond. She’d already turned before he could form a coherent thought and was sprinting toward the end of the alley, obviously intent on following the group. He shot forward, grabbing her arm and yanking her back into the shadows.

‘I’m sure they’ve learned their lesson.’

‘Those bastards just tried to attack someone,’ she snapped, struggling against his hold, ‘they haven’t learnt their lesson. Not yet.’

‘Leave it to me, then. You may be strong but you’re not indestructible.’

‘Neither are you.’

She dropped into a low crouch and he released her arms as she’d hoped; he didn’t want to hurt her, and it was a weakness she clearly planned to exploit. She slid between his legs, but Tony wasn’t falling for that trick again. He swung round, arm out, and she ducked to avoid his grasping fingers, dancing back a few steps as she reached into her sleeve. She darted around him again, charging a throwing star as she sprinted past, putting a few metres between them before she hurled the star over her shoulder. It hit just shy of his feet, shards of concrete battering him and filling the air with dust and smoke. Jarvis – ever helpful – pointed out that visibility was minimal as Tony squinted through the cloud of debris. He saw only a rough silhouette disappearing at the end of the alleyway. 

Tony spit out a curse as he shot into the air. He could run fast in his suit but if he were to bump into anyone, to stumble over someone on the sidewalk, he’d likely crush them. It would be easier and safer to track her from above, harder for her to lose him, and it would ease Jarvis’s worries about him being mobbed by the grateful people of Los Angeles. Even hovering quietly people still looked up, a young boy tugging at his mother’s sleeve and pointing up in awe when he spotted Iron Man. 

He found the Alchemist quickly, Jarvis locking onto her as Tony hovered above. She wove easily through the crowd, slinking through the mass of moving bodies. Knowing Jarvis wouldn’t lose her he breezed past, moving ahead of her to find the men before he circled back. They assumed they were safe – after all, Iron Man hadn’t been concerned with trapping them. They were strolling along the sidewalk now, chuckling to each other about their near miss. They had no idea that the Alchemist was hot on their tails, watching their every move as they stumbled through the crowd, two of them limping while the others took their injured comrades’ weight. But the Alchemist was gaining on them, her quick strides devouring the distance between her and her prey.

They ducked down an alley to catch their breath, chatting about having a quick smoke before they continued on. None of them noticed that it was a dead end, a brick wall towering in the shadows, nor did they see the Alchemist until it was too late, her hooded figure casting a haunting shadow along the length of the alley. As soon as she stepped into the shadows of the surrounding buildings, she began to rub her fingers in that practised circular motion, the high pitched rub of the metal singing a menacing song that left the four thugs trembling. None of them reached for a weapon; they were too busy gathering their friends and dragging them away from their foe. When they backed up against the brick wall, one, braver than the rest, reached for the piece tucked into the front of his pants with shaking hands, but the moment he touched the metal she snapped her fingers and a spark shot from her fingertips. He choked on his scream, throwing the weapon down; it glowed in the dark alley, red hot from the energy she’d sent coursing through it.

They dared not move again, their eyes locked on the Alchemist. Tony knew by the set her shoulders, by the menacing song of her metallic fingertips that she would not offer them mercy. Her faceless rage sent shivers down his spine. What could have happened to make her so cold, so frightening?

Sparks flared from her fingertips, arching to any metal in reach, the shakes of the men more violent as they stared in horror and awe.

‘Do you remember me yet?’

The man who’d reached his gun – Ballsy, Tony decided to call him – clutched his singed hand to his chest, nodding. ‘I thought... it had to be my imagination. You couldn’t have… it’s not possible.’

The Alchemist reached into her sleeves and took hold of two throwing stars, sparks lighting the alleyway as she charged them with electricity. ‘This wouldn’t be happening if you’d learnt your lesson the first time we met… you just had to keep going after girls, didn’t you? Chasing them. Scaring them. _Scarring_ them.’

‘W–we were just toying with them,’ Ballsy said and the other three nodded their agreement; they couldn’t seem to find their voices.

The stars stopped spinning on her pointed fingertips. Even in the air, Tony was sure he felt the sizzle of her anger as it manifested in sparks that danced on her skin.  He knew that Ballsy had made a serious mistake when the stars started to spin again, the singing of the metal seeming to rise to a roar.

‘So, those loaded guns were just for show?’

Her voice was colder than the midnight breeze, and Tony began to wonder if she really meant to kill these men or just planned to kick them around before tossing them to the authorities. As she prepared to throw the stars, though, he knew that she had no intention of letting them leave the alleyway without wearing body-bags. 

Tony dropped out of the air, the concrete cracking beneath his feet. He braced, taking the twin explosions at his back. He stumbled forward with the shockwave of the blasts and the Alchemist had to shield her eyes as debris pelted her, the heat searing her skin.

The stars had exploded a mere inch from Tony’s back, throwing him towards the brick wall at the end of the alleyway. A part of his brain, as if detached from the rest, soberly decided they needed to add programming to improve autonomous suit stability; the other part fought desperately for equilibrium as he forced his feet into gear and turned to chase the fleeing men: in a panic, they’d surged around Tony, and Ballsy regained enough courage to make an attack.

Tony was too far away to do anything but watch the shining edge of the blade arch through the air. The sharp point slashed her stomach and the Alchemist stumbled back, her ears ringing, her eyes burning from the bright blast, and she grit her teeth against a scream as the blade plunged deep into her thigh. She reached for her sleeve but Ballsy had already ducked past her, landing his elbow on the back of her head so hard that Tony heard the impact. Tony raised his hands; sensing his desire, Jarvis loaded the bolas, the cords catching the thug’s legs and body. Unable to catch himself, Ballsy dropped onto his face, knocked out cold as his head hit the concrete with a heavy _clunk_.

The remaining men skidded to a halt at the end of the alleyway, looking back when they realised they’d lost their comrade. Tony pointed at their friend, staring directly at them as he said, ‘I’ll just take him. Call it a sacrifice. But I _will_ be keeping tabs on you. If you ever even _think_ about hurting someone else, even if it’s just an impolite thought, I will _hunt. You. Down._ ’

They shook visibly, nodding before they disappeared around the corner and into the night. Content their experience would keep them in line for a while, at least, Tony stepped away from the unconscious man, certain that Ballsy wouldn’t be making an escape any time soon.

He turned back to the Alchemist. To his sheer disbelief, she was still standing, and she was facing him. He felt her glare sear him even through the suit. ‘I–’ she swayed, raising her hand to warn him away when he took a step towards her– ‘I’m going to kill you, Stark–’ she dropped to her knees, her sharp intake of breath piercing the air before she collapsed on her side.

Tony closed the distance in a few strides. He dropped down on a knee, rolling her onto her back to check the wounds. The one on her stomach appeared superficial; the leather had suffered, but in its suffering, it had protected her from a deeper cut. The leg wound also seemed to have missed any arteries; blood seeped from it slowly to stain her leather pants, a small puddle forming on the concrete where it dribbled down the worn fabric.

‘Shit,’ he muttered as he stared at the dark hilt. He dared not touch the blade that still protruded from her thigh, not until he knew what type it was, and where it lay in relation to any arteries. 

‘Jarvis, call the cops on Ballsy over there,’ he said as he gingerly slid his arms under the Alchemist’s knees and shoulders. He lifted her slowly, careful not to jostle her as the jets in his boots ignited. He wondered if he should take her to a hospital, but as he stared down at the mask hiding her face, as he thought back to the hint of fear he’d managed to extract with his rouse on their previous meeting – that he knew her identity – he knew it was the last place she should be. This was clearly not a woman who wanted to be found; if he took her to the hospital she would run the moment she regained consciousness. If he took her to his home, away from prying eyes, he could keep her safe, hidden, allowing her time to rest and recover.

The moment Jarvis realised what Tony planned, easily calculating his destination by the direction of his flight, the AI protested vehemently, claiming she could be dangerous, but Tony easily shot back; between her wounds and the hit she had taken to the back of her head, she’d be out for a while.

‘She’s a criminal, Sir.’

‘Vigilante,’ Tony corrected, ‘someone who goes busting weapons deals and hunting criminals doesn’t do it for fun. Something happened to her to make her choose this life. She’s suffered enough, I’d wager.’

Tony kept her bundled close, her heavy coat wrapped tightly around her as he flew as low as he could, hoping the cold would not affect her – she could go into shock at any moment. The journey to his house seemed to drag on, but he was reassured by the steady rise and fall of her chest.

He landed in his lab, sweeping tools off the nearest table, not caring what hit the floor as the clutter fell away. He placed her on it, careful not to jostle her leg before he raced to have his suit removed, knowing that he would work better without it. Still, the seconds ticked by into minutes, and he nearly cried out with relief when the final pieces were removed and his feet hit the floor.  

‘Butterfingers, I need the first aid kit,’ he called as he found a pair of scissors to remove the leg of her pants above the wound and below, the knife still buried in her thigh. The bleeding seemed to have slowed now, so he set Butterfingers up to apply pressure around the hilt and turned his attention to her torso. He cut back the torn section, dropping the scissors beside her hip before he fought with a pair of gloves, the rubber sticking to his sweaty skin.

It took sheet upon sheet of gauze to clean the blood off her stomach, but Jarvis quickly informed him that the wound was indeed superficial. He moved to inspect the leg wound.

‘Jarvis, do you remember if that blade was serrated or not?’

‘It is a simple flick knife. This model is not serrated, however, I recommend you call for a medical doctor.’

Tony pursed his lips, glancing at her mask, then back at the hilt of the blade. ‘She’s obviously tried very hard to stay hidden,’ he said finally, ‘she might try and run for it while injured if she knows that someone else tended to her.’

‘Sir, I–’

‘Just– just tell me what to do.’

* * *

Tony’s breath was ragged by the time he finished stitching her wounds. He was sure he’d held it half the time as he’d threaded the needle back and forth. It was only when he began to clean the wounds a final time that he felt he could breathe normally again, relief coursing through him as he wrapped her in bandages. Knowing there’d be some seepage, he made a mental note to check on them in a couple of hours, certain the strong painkillers he’d injected would keep her out for a while longer.

‘Jarvis, do a quick scan for any other injuries, particularly on her head. I couldn’t feel anything but I’d rather know for sure,’ he said as he pulled the bloodied gloves off his hands, ‘also, check her pulse and give me audio on her heartbeat. She seems stable. There’s something off about it, though.’

He dropped the gloves in the bin, going in search of a change of clothes; the second-skin suit he wore beneath the Iron Man suit had been slowly boiling him, and he’d started to feel light-headed now that the adrenaline was wearing off. When he returned, her breathing still appeared steady, but as he neared the table a strange tingle worked its way up his spine even before Jarvis caught his attention.

‘Sir, there’s something you should hear.’ 

Tony settled into the chair beside the table as the speakers crackled, signalling the oncoming audio. He listened, an elbow on his knee, chin propped on his fist as the quick beat filled his ears, mechanical and strange, yet somehow familiar. He scratched the stubble on his chin, still listening, still trying to place it as the steady beat continued on a loop. He glanced over at the screen that displayed the spiking rhythm.

‘What is that?’

‘That, Sir,’ Jarvis said, ‘is a heartbeat.’

Tony’s chin slipped off his fist, forcing him to jerk his head up. He sat bolt straight, eyes darting between the Alchemist and the screen. Even without the mask, he had guessed she wasn’t too old, maybe late twenties by her voice and by the words she used. Would she really have a pacemaker? Even then, was that what they really sounded like?

‘She has a pacemaker?’ he asked, edging closer to the screen, watching the rapid spikes of the beat, ‘or a prosthetic heart?’

‘More than that, Sir,’ Jarvis said, tracing the outline of the device before generating a 3D image that started beating in time with the audio, ‘no pacemaker or prosthetic is this advanced. This is a fully functional mechanical heart. Nothing like it exists.’

‘There are no other mechanical organs like it? At all?’ Tony asked, rotating the image, watching as each carefully shaped piece moved in harmony with the rest.

‘My search discovered no functioning organs, but various mechanical limbs were designed and tested at the Advanced Prosthetic Research and Development Centre until the death of their lead scientist, Doctor Danielle Brooker, in the explosion that destroyed most of the building two years ago.’

Tony scratched his chin again. ‘How old would Brooker be today?’

‘She would be thirty-two, Sir.’

He glanced at the Alchemist, his gaze following the length of her body. She was clearly strong, healthy, her muscles toned and her skin supple and firm. Although crisscrossed with scars, likely from run-ins with criminals as a vigilante, she seemed to be in her prime. But, with a heart that could potentially beat for another ten lifetimes, could he really tell her age by merely looking at her?

His fingers itched to reach for the mask, to remove it and see the face that lay resting beneath. Despite the grim report on the screen, Tony was sure he’d find Danielle Brooker beneath the shining metal, but he knew that even a peek would destroy any chance he had at gaining her trust.

‘I’ll have to use the information you’ve given me to convince her to reveal herself,’ he said, staring at the polished metal, his frown reflected back at him, ‘but if I’m right, I don’t think she’ll be pleased to find out that I know she faked her own death.’


	3. Past to Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _...‘So…’ Tony said, ‘complicated.’_   
>  _Beneath her mask, she smirked. ‘This story doesn’t have a happy ending. You sure you want to hear it?’..._

* * *

**Chapter Three**  
**Past to Present**

Aviana felt like ice, her back stiff and body aching to her bones. She could feel a breath of cool air on one of her legs and on her stomach and... tape? She ignored the strange tacky sensation, focusing inwards. She could feel her heart beating in her chest, the rhythm rapid but stable; no erratic beats gave her cause concern, and she let her burning, itching eyes open.

She stared up as she tried to sift through her addled thoughts. She could see nothing but a well-lit, white ceiling high above her head, a ceiling that most definitely was not the ceiling of her apartment. 

_Shit._

White hot pain danced over her stomach with even the slightest movement but she fought against it, against the pain, starting to sit up, gritting her teeth when her body protested. When a heavy hand tried to push her back she grasped the owner’s wrist on instinct, a quick jolt of electricity sending them flying.

She slumped back for a moment, her breath coming hard and fast as she tried to push through the pain, managing only to turn and lift her head to look around the room. She was lying on a metal table, a large screen at her feet. Beside her, slumped between a fallen chair and side table, Tony Stark groaned as he eased himself up from a pile of papers and electronics, shaking cables from around his arms as he cursed, saying something about electricity that she did not catch – she was far too busy making another attempt at sitting up, a fresh rush of panic-borne adrenaline providing enough pain relief for her to pivot and swing her legs over the edge of the table, knowing she needed to put herself in a better position for defence.

Muttering a string of curses, Tony pushed himself up from the ground, levelling his gaze at her before he said, ‘that was unnecessary, considering I just saved your life.’

If he expected her thanks, he wasn’t going to get it. ‘Why am I here?’ she asked, letting her rings roll down and over her knuckles.

‘One of those guys surprised you,’ he said, ‘and it was my fault. I was so busy trying to stop you from hurting those thugs–’ he shook off the thoughts, clearly struggling with the morality of the situation– ‘anyway, I brought you here to patch you up. I figured you wouldn’t be comfortable in a hospital, considering who you are.’

‘Did you–’

‘Remove your mask?’ he finished, crossing his arms over his chest, shirt stretching at the movement, ‘no, but that’s only because you seem to feel more comfortable wearing it.’

‘They why did you say “considering who you are” like you know me?’ she asked, rubbing her fingers together, knowing she would have to bluff strength she did not really feel, at least not until she could get in touch with the nearest power point.

‘I don’t need to see your face to recognise technology and its maker. I make a point of keeping up with the latest developments in technology, especially ones as big as yours.’

She narrowed her gaze. ‘You’re bluffing.’

‘Try me, Danielle.’

She sent a shockwave, knocking Tony back into the pile of electronics he’d only just untangled himself from. She forced herself to drop down onto her unsteady feet, managing one step on shaking knees before her legs gave out, a cry wrenched from her throat as the stitches pulled her torn flesh. She pushed herself up, keeping as much weight off her leg as possible, blood streaming down her thigh. Her knees shook in earnest and she grit her teeth against the pain until her jaw ached, but she only made it a few feet before she toppled again.

She glanced ahead, and from her position on the floor, she found a sliver of hope. _If I can just make it to that powerpoint_ , she thought as she dragged herself towards it, _I can defend myself_.

She rolled onto her back when Tony’s footsteps sounded behind her – apparently he’d managed to escape his entanglement in the electronics again. He paused and opened his hands, showing his palms in an offering of peace, but she held her defensive position. It didn’t matter that he had tried to help her; one act of kindness wasn’t going to convince her to trust Tony Stark, especially when the metal table she’d woken on could just as easily have been a slab. He was too dangerous to her, too public, too arrogant. 

‘Just– _stop_. Don’t say that name,’ she said, easing herself up to a sitting position, pushing herself back to put some distance between them, ‘forget what you know and never utter that name again. I won’t hesitate to kill you.’

‘You know, despite how much people believe I love only myself, I’ve never really been too good at that whole keeping-my-mouth-shut-for-the-sake-of-self-preservation thing.’ He dropped down, sitting on the floor some distance away, his legs stretched out in front of him and leaning casually on one hand, acting as if she hadn’t threatened to kill him, but had offered him a cup of tea. ‘You obviously have trust issues but if I was going to sell you out, don’t you think I would have done that during the hours that you’ve been unconscious?’

‘How do I know you haven’t? For all I know, my face is currently plastered all over the news.’

He pursed his lips for a moment before he glanced at the screen. ‘Jarvis, find me a channel.’

‘Of course, Sir,’ a disembodied voice answered.

She kept her eyes trained on him for a moment longer before she turned her attention to the screen, the one she’d seen when she first woke up. It was already on a news channel. There was no picture, no line of text scrolling across the bottom of the screen, no words uttered by the presenter.

‘Let’s try a couple different outlets, Jarvis.’

The screen flicked through, pausing long enough for Aviana to see… nothing.

‘The only people who know this little secret of ours are me, Jarvis, and Butterfingers, and I don’t even think you can count the latter two as people, so that just leaves–’ he counted on his fingers, a little sarcastically, in fact, as if to make light of such a pressing situation– ‘oh, just me,’ he finished, offering a smile, ‘and I won’t tell a soul about your return from the dead. Not when you seem so scared of it.’

Aviana stared at him a moment longer, studying his eyes. Much as it unsettled her, she found only sincerity in the depths of his rich, coffee-coloured gaze. Slowly, she lowered her arm. ‘How did you know it was me?’ she asked; her voice had lost some of its bravado, ‘everyone thinks I’m dead. No one, even those who have seen my face recently, recognises me. How did you? Really?’

‘Just like I said: developments in technology.’ He eased himself up from the ground and went to the screen which still flicked between channels. After a few quick taps on the keyboard a speaker system kicked in and a beat sounded in the room. ‘Jarvis had me listen to this before he showed me a scan of you’re the inside of your chest, and I saw what was making the sound.’

Aviana rubbed at her chest absently; fingers tracing familiar scars that signalled what lay beneath.

‘I’ve seen the other work you’ve done, creating completely mechanical limbs that are light-weight but function as the real thing,’ he said, ‘but I’ve never seen anything like this before. This is… this is truly amazing.’

Aviana didn’t know how to respond, blatant awe in his eyes as he glanced at the screen. For a moment they were silent, watching the 3D image move in time with the beat in her chest.

Tony was so focused on the image he seemed to struggle to drag his eyes away from the screen, returning his attention to her. ‘Is this why you faked your death?’

‘I didn’t fake my death, Stark. It’s far more complicated than that.’

‘Explain it to me then,’ he said, tapping the Arc reactor in his chest, ‘I’m good with complicated.’

Aviana pursed her lips, searching his eyes. She still didn’t find any malice within his gaze. Could there really be any harm in revealing a few details to Iron Man, a fellow vigilante?

‘Fine, but first–’ she pushed herself towards the nearest piece of metal: a workbench– ‘anything on top of this?’

Tony shook his head, the gesture all the invitation she needed. Strips peeled from the table leg, coiling neatly into her free hand. The metal appeared to be melting, a section of the table top eaten away to follow the drops that pooled in her palm before Tony could react. The stripped metal wrapped tight around her fingertip before extending, forked and rigid again, inching towards to her goal.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Powerpoint,’ she said, ignoring his sputtered protests as the point reached the plastic cover. He jerked to his feet as the forked tip hit home, but before he could lay a hand on her she hit him with small shockwave, just enough to make him stumble back a few feet as electricity shot straight to her heart. The beats kicked up a notch, the prosthetic invigorated by the fresh burst of energy, her whole body strengthened by the surge. She drew on the source, lights flickering at the sudden drain of power.

Her goal achieved, the metal melted away to return to the table. Her body still ached – oh, it ached – but at least she wasn’t powerless. She leant back on her elbows, breathing hard as a rush of adrenaline hit. She watched a range of emotions play across Tony’s face as the stream metal of the table climbing back into place, smoothing until no evidence of the event remained.  

‘So…’ Tony said, ‘complicated.’

Beneath her mask, she smirked. ‘This story doesn’t have a happy ending. You sure you want to hear it?’

He stared at her for another moment, and in the silence, the beat of her heart – in real time – echoed in the room. Aviana thought for a moment he might have changed his mind, but finally, he dropped into the chair and waited for her to begin.

* * *

**_Two Years Earlier_ **

_Danielle stared at the ceiling above her, the once pristine white paint peeling away in the intensity of the heat, charred flakes raining down through billowing smoke. She knew there was little time before structure would collapse, the stress of the explosion that had rocked the building too much for it to handle. Still, even if the ceiling held and even if the fires didn’t consume her, by the crushing tightness in her chest she had little time left on this earth._

_She struggled for breath but the air in her lungs was heavy, a metallic tang making her already sickened stomach churn. She could only hope that death would come quick, the thought that her work – thousands upon thousands of hours of work – would not be lost, that one day it would help people._

_Just like it can help you…_

_The thought drifted through her fading mind, drawing enough lucidity for her to act. With an aching, heavy arm she reached for her phone. The screen was shattered but still responsive, her focus so intent that she didn’t feel the sharp stab of the glass sliver imbed in her skin as she unlocked it with shaking fingers. She only needed to hold on for a moment longer, she thought as she hit speed dial, and for the first time in her life, she prayed as she brought the phone to her ear, listening to the ringing and hoping it wouldn’t be the last sound she ever heard._

_‘Hello?’_

_Between the smoke-filled air and the crippling pain her torso, Danielle struggled to find the words. ‘Get me from work. Wear scrubs,’ she said, fighting back the urge to cough, her voice strained, ‘the paramedics can’t help. You need to take me to my house.’_

_‘Sis, you’re scaring me–’_

_‘No time… heart–’ she grit her teeth, a strangled sound finally breaking from her throat, and for a moment she was met by a frightened silence on the other end of the line._

_‘Three minutes,’ he said before the line went dead._

**_***_ **

_Danielle carefully cleaned the healing wound and gently tapped the metal beneath the square, checking that it was secure, glad that the new ribs had bonded well as she carefully strapped a bandage over the square and pulled her shirt on. There was no time to recover though she could barely stand._

_She gathered a few things into her bag – the few things she thought she could take with her from her life – and grasped the handles, winching as stitches pulled and twisted. She paused to take a breath, fingers resting on the handle, and she dared to take a final look back at him. Alex lay sleeping on the couch, the one he’d helped her pick five years ago just after she’d moved into the apartment. With the blanket twisted around his legs, his arm laying over his eyes as he snored, she knew that it would be the last time she saw him so at peace._

_Perhaps the last time she saw him at all._

_Deep down, Danielle knew the note she’d left wouldn’t be enough but she wouldn’t embroil him in the mess. She told him not to look for her, told him to pretend she was dead – as she was supposed to be, vaporised by the blast – so that they would not hurt him, because soon they would come for her. She had confronted her bosses about their illegal activities and they had denied the existence of chemical warfare agent to her face before the explosion – a staged event, she knew now – released a deadly cocktail of the gasses, causing the destruction of her heart. She knew which laws her bosses had broken, which laws they would continue to break, and that knowledge put Alex him in danger, especially when her bosses might find out she was still alive at any moment._

_She was the only living proof of their crimes; knocked unconscious by a piece of rubble and unprotected by the gas masks that all the others donned, and fortunate enough to have the right contact to save her life._

_The security tapes – if they had not been destroyed by the fire – would show her being carted from the building on a stretcher, barely moving but alive. Considering the work she had been doing for the company she was sure they knew she would be able to survive given just a little time to make some arrangements._

_Heart surgery, for example._

_Danielle closed the door behind herself quietly, thinking of the machine that now beat inside her. The prosthetic heart made her feel stronger than she ever had, even a few hours post-surgery, but there was no denying that the cold metal felt… wrong. Even though her creation kept her alive. Even though she had hoped one day it would be able to save others._

_Not anymore._

_No one would ever receive the playfully named Clockwork Heart; creating another would only reveal her to her bosses. Even dabbling in biomedical engineering would be too dangerous now._

_She left, left her life knowing that it was the only way to protect him. She changed her name, changed every aspect of her physical appearance she could, even began wearing contacts; her reddened irises – an unusual side effect of the destruction of her heart – would draw unwanted attention. She went into hiding, using her engineering skills to adapt, soon finding work in a garage. It didn’t take away her pain, but rebuilding engines became a reprieve from her churning mind, deadening the anger and sadness that twisted in her gut._

_She was forced to watch as the company she had hoped would continue to find ways to better the world rebuilt itself as a monster, covering up the chemicals and explosives they were creating while they claimed to be moving on with strength, supporting the families of those who died as a result of the ‘gas leak’ in the laboratory._

_Yet, despite their ‘community focus’, they still found time to hunt her on the weekends._

_Danielle hid, and under the name Aviana, she began to recover the evidence lost in the explosion. From her cramped apartment in downtown Los Angeles, she continued working on some simpler, less obvious prosthetics, beginning with a new set of contact lenses that not only hid the red in her eyes but also enhanced her vision, allowing her to see clearer, to see greater distances._

_But it wasn’t long before she discovered she could do more than just fix cars and create advanced prosthetics…_

_*******  
_

_The rain fell in heavy sheets, stinging her hands as she pulled her hood further over her head, trying to shield her eyes from the pelting drops. She didn’t need to look up to see the storm, the bright flashes lightninging lighting the street in blinding white with every flash, the electricity in the air tingling on her skin as thunder rolled above her head._

_Aviana walked a little faster, hoping that the worst of the storm would not hit until she was safely tucked away in her apartment. She took a familiar shortcut down a narrow alleyway, hoping to avoid the worst of the rain, rain that should have been chilling her to the very bone, but whether because of her rapid pace or because she so cold she was numb to it, she didn’t feel the icy winds._

_She screamed as a lightning strike hit the building somewhere ahead in the alleyway, the strike mere metres from her feet. She flew backwards as electricity rocketed through her body, a rush of warmth moving over her skin, right to her very bones, fear flooding through her when the charge hit her heart. She felt it, yet her heart continued to beat as she lay on the wet concrete, her breath coming in sharp gasps as the reality of the situation hit._

_She sat up, trembling, knowing that she should be unconscious or dead, but she felt invigorated. She pulled the collar of her shirt aside, brushing her fingers over the fresh, pink scarring on her chest, realising that her whole body was aware of the electricity around her as the storm raged. She dropped her hands into her lap, staring at her palm and feeling… power surge over every inch of her skin._

_She was intrigued, captivated by the feeling, as she rose on surprisingly steady legs. She was so lost in her wonder that she didn’t hear the soft splash of rapid footsteps behind her until it was too late. An arm wrapped tight around her neck and a tongue curled over her ear. On instinct she gripped the arm to pull it from her neck, the brief touch making the man cry out and release his crushing grip._

_She didn’t turn around to look, didn’t see the four of them staring at the marks on the man’s arm, five perfectly formed imprints of fingers burned into his skin. She sprinted towards the other end of the alley, her shoes slipping and sliding on the slick concrete. She knew that she couldn’t outrun all four of them but she had to try, so terrified she hardly thought about how she’d burned her attacker._

_She reached into her bag, searching for the cold metal of her trusted pepper spray even as she neared the halfway point of the long, winding alleyway. She gripped it tight in her hand, listening to the shouting and pounding of footsteps behind her, knowing they were catching up. She turned enough to aim the spray at them but one lunged forward, knocking the bottle from her hand as he grasped for her._

_She was out of luck, too out of practice with the martial arts that she had taken as a kid, knew that the self-defence training she’d done in her early twenties would not be enough to fend off four grown men. Still, she prepared to fight as the bottle flew from her grasp, but when it slammed into the brick wall beside the group it ruptured with a flare of light before an explosion rocked the alleyway, the sound covered by the crack of thunder overhead. Rubble flew, chunks of the wall knocking the men down. She brought her hands up, trying to shield her head from the brick fragments, but no rubble came, and she cracked her eyes open timidly to see the closest pieces burst into clouds of dirty-red as electricity shot from her fingertips._

_The heavy rain soon washed away the brick dust, coating the men who lay unconscious at her feet, knocked out by the blast. Without a thought she stumbled back, turning to sprint to the end of the alley; she didn’t stop running until she reached her apartment, and she didn’t feel the rain pelting her. The only thing that broke through the panicked haze in her mind was the feeling of electricity in the air._

_She tried to ignore it, labelling it as a freak accident, but she could no longer deny the change that was taking place in her body, not when she’d survived an almost direct hit from a lightning strike, and when accidentally touching a live wire at her garage had felt like nothing more than static electricity. But perhaps the defining moment happened only days later after the encounter in the alley when she was working on her car late at night. After fourteen hours of solid work rebuilding an engine she thought she should feel drained, yet had her stomach not started to grumble insistently at her, she would have happily continued her task. She closed the bonnet and pulled her gloves off, reaching to wipe the sweat from her brow as she leant against the car, but her hand slipped on the polished bonnet._

_The engine roared to life._

_Aviana’s eyes flew open, discovering that the engine was only the beginning. The Mustang GT500 was changed, the metal body morphed; it was sleeker, darker._

_She could not deny her blossoming abilities any longer, could not deny what her Clockwork Heart was making possible. She could absorb electricity and use it to strengthen her body, significantly increasing her endurance. She could change the balance of the atoms in metal and morph them into whatever shape she desired. Or, when needed, merely unbalance them, as she had done in the pepper spray bottle._

_With nothing to lose, it was time she started to use her abilities, to harness them to stop her old bosses, to stop the company that had destroyed her life. Until she could expose them as monsters, she could put her power to good use, stop others from suffering and protect them._

_Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined she would become a vigilante, but then it seemed it no longer mattered what she could dream, not when she could morph and weaponise metal through the electricity her prosthetic heart absorbed._

_It seemed that her life had purpose again._

* * *

Aviana pursed her lips, leaning against the table leg, the cold metal against her cheek keeping her firmly grounded in the present. She opened her eyes slowly, her gaze falling on Tony. She expected doubt, distrust, but was met with curiosity, even sympathy.

‘You didn’t fake your death,’ he said simply, ‘they did.’

She nodded. ‘They knew I was alive, but by listing me among the dead – and after that explosion, there were many – they could hunt me down and kill me themselves. It wasn’t like I could go to the police, not when they would want to perform tests to check my health and verify my identity–’

‘Because they would have discovered your heart.’

Again, she nodded. ‘No one could know. The second it went on record I would have been out in the open and easy for the taking. These men are connected. They have people under contracts to take care of anyone they see as a threat. If not for the explosion – which I suspect they set off to cover their tracks in case I’d managed to leak any information – I would have been dead within hours of returning home. A staged suicide, a scapegoat to distract the authorities from the events in the lab. When the press came forward with questions, they didn’t want to hear about the explosion, they just… they wanted to talk about the loss of the Director of Prosthetic Development.’

Tony pushed a hand through his dark hair, his face tight; it was perhaps the most serious look she’d ever seen cross his face. The rich playboy was always so bright on television no matter what he was pictured for and the change was so at odds with his public persona, but also welcome. He was an incredibly intelligent man; she’d always thought there had to be more depth to him than Iron Man and an – apparently – ridiculously high libido. 

‘So it really was a cover up then,’ he said, scratching his chin for a moment, ‘I considered it, but... after the explosion, there wasn’t much to delve through. And, with so much of the security footage destroyed, there wasn’t much to learn from other than the few files I could access that made me think APRDC was a competitor.’

‘Competitor?’ she said, ‘what would make you think that?’

He pulled a small device out of his pocket; she’d seen him use it before, seen him hijack the screens in the hearing to reveal Hammer Industries’ failed Iron Man suit. In seconds he was pulling up designs, ones she faintly recognised as hers: prosthetic fingers, arms, legs, and everything else that had come to exist through her thousands of hours of work, but there was something different about all of them, the designs modified to add…

She clutched at the table, breath expelled in a painful rush that nearly felled her as her gut churned at the sight. She turned away, twisting, the gash across her stomach screaming in protest. She tucked herself against the table, refusing to at the screen or Tony; she didn’t know what else to. Beneath her mask tears fell freely, a faint cry of anguish caught in her throat. She didn’t hear Tony’s footsteps as he approached, nor could her clouded mind make sense of his words when he spoke. She barely felt his hand as it came to rest on her shoulder, the warmth and strength he tried to offer failing to register.

‘Danielle.’ He shook her but she was unresponsive. He bit back the name when he went to say it again, remembering her reaction, shaking her gently as he said, ‘Aviana.’

It took a few moments, but she finally seemed to register the weight of his hands on her shoulder. Her eyes snapped open beneath the mask, meeting his.

‘You need to calm down,’ he said firmly, though his grip was gentle as he traced her leather-clad arms with his hands. Her heart pounded in her chest, the beat rapid and strong, and when she looked around, the few lights which hadn’t blown were flickering; the strong surge in her emotions had affected the very world around her. Glass lay around them and various appliances smoked.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, her voice thick with the emotions caught in her chest, yet there was no anger in his eyes despite the destruction; she saw only concern and, for the briefest moment, fear. She closed her eyes, glad that her tear stained face was hidden as she forced strength into her voice that she didn’t really have. ‘Those designs are mine,’ she explained, ‘they’re meant to help people who… who truly need them… not arm soldiers for war.’

Tony glanced at the screen, the designs still scrolling on the monitor. There were inserts for darts in the fingertips of prosthetic hands, a blade in a prosthetic arm. He hadn’t understood what could have caused her reaction, but now, to see what the APRDC had done, he wasn’t surprised it caused her such pain.

The desire to reach out to her, to offer comfort, seized him. Instead, he drew his hands back from her shoulders; he knew she would not accept his embrace even though the simple touch of his hands seemed to calm her, even though she did seem to trust him, but he knew her true identity. She may well see him as a threat to her safety despite the fact that she could kill him in an instant, and she’d demonstrated quite clearly that she would not hesitate to protect herself. She’d been forced into this life, and after what had been done to her she would do anything to keep herself alive until she had exposed APRDC.

‘Let me help you. Let me help you stop them.’

She dropped her head, reaching up to shift his hands from her shoulders. ‘This is my fight, Stark, not yours,’ she said before she grasped the table leg. She began to stand, hissing out a breath of pain as she straightened. Her leg shook but thankfully held, and she felt strong enough to finally walk away, albeit not very fast.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Home. And don’t try to follow me this time.’

‘If I hadn’t followed you last time, you’d be dead.’

She paused, leaning on the table, glancing over her shoulder. ‘And if you hadn’t interfered I wouldn’t have been injured in the first place,’ she shot back. The moment the words left her lips she regretted them, a bitter taste on her tongue. ‘But… you did what you felt was right, so… thank you,’ she said, ‘but this is still something I have to do for myself.’

‘You need to heal.’

‘It won’t take me long,’ she said, starting forward again.

‘You can barely walk,’ he said, hand catching hers. She sent a shock through him at the contact, though she tempered it, only wanting him to let go.  

‘Please, Danielle–’

‘Stop calling me that!’ she snapped, turning on him when he tried to reach for her again, pushing him back with a hard thump of her fist against his chest. The physical blow seemed to stun him as much as it had her; she always attacked with electricity, always kept her distance, yet she had actually _pushed_ him. 

He recovered his composure quickly, straightening, shoulders back as he squared up. ‘You shouldn’t do this alone. You may not want my help but you’re going to get it. As Iron Man, I can draw attention to the company. My investigation will make the police, the FBI- hell,  _anyone_ important who might be curious about what is really happening behind closed doors will notice.’

‘But it may also draw attention to me,’ she said, ‘if they even think I could be alive still, my– people could get killed.’

‘Who?’

‘No one who concerns you.’

‘You mentioned a man before,’ he said, ‘your boyfriend?’

She turned and he grabbed her wrist again, somehow ignoring the shock that she sent sparking through his body as he pulled her back. She stumbled, her leg giving way again, her body ready for the fall, but strong arms wrapped around her. He pulled her tight against him, her hands drawn to his shoulders, and she clutched his shirt as she worked her way through the shock of the sudden closeness. He didn’t speak; just tightened his hold on her, and she dared to pull back a little, to meet his gaze. He wanted her to trust him, to let him in when she had blocked everyone else out.

‘Please,’ he said, a rough edge to his voice, ‘rest and heal here. Then let me help you.’

She stared at him, stared into his warm gaze and searched within again, and still, she could not find anything malicious in the rich, coffee-coloured depths.

‘Alright, Stark,’ she said finally, pulling back before the live-stream of her heartbeat that still echoed in the room could give away her churning thoughts, ‘but if I ever think you are going to cross me, I will kill you.’

Despite the threat, he offered a smile. ‘I wouldn’t expect any less from the Alchemist.’


	4. Recovery

* * *

**Chapter Four**  
**Recovery**

Aviana spent the next two weeks of her recovery at Tony’s, her injuries healing, her secret still safe. It was quiet in his Malibu mansion; now that Pepper was CEO of Stark Industries her appearances at the house were few and far between, and always accompanied with a polite warning text. Aviana would simply make herself scarce, ducking out of sight every time she heard the quick click of Miss Potts’s heels on the polished wood, metal and tile floors. From a few quick observations, Aviana suspected the woman was organised and sincere in her intent, but she’d already risked too much trusting Tony. 

So far she hadn’t once regretted her decision to trust Tony even knowing he could trade her secrets for his own benefit; it was difficult not to trust a man who’d opened his home to her as Tony had, a man who’d let her into a world he’d shared with only a handful of his most trusted friends. She firmly believed that he’d never risk selling her out, not only because he knew she now could use her insight into the Iron Man suits and a few other key inventions against him if necessary, but also because their trust had come to run deeper than their shared interests.

Late one evening in the workshop, Tony explained how he’d come to build the first suit with only a car battery and a magnet keeping him alive until he created the miniature arc reactor that was now the very centre of his survival. She’d know that necessity drove Tony’s invention of the Iron Man suit, but to hear the story in his own words, to see the way his hands shook and his eyes glazed over as he relived the terror of his time in captivity almost left her in tears; it was as if he himself was unmasked, revealing the soul behind the pearly white playboy grins.

They had both suffered greatly and they both still struggled with the physical and psychological burdens of their experiences. It was a huge relief to talk openly, and much as she refused to admit it, Aviana found herself growing fonder of Tony every day, and often caught herself wondering if he too felt a connection. Perhaps it was the inevitable closeness of living in the same house or the fact that they had been working together on such an intense issue – either way, she thought it best to keep her thoughts focused elsewhere.

A perfect, cloudy evening arrived on her sixteenth day in Malibu, and she knew it was time to make her first direct move against the APRDC. She crept down the stairs from the workshop with quick and careful steps, moving quietly through the house, hardly a creak sounding in the modern mansion.

She paused when she heard movement below, relaxing when she heard Tony’s rhythmic, solid footfalls. The rings on her fingers felt cooler than usual as she tugged at the sides of her jacket, zipping it up as she entered the lounge. Tony was standing beside a plush, stylish couch, a coffee in one hand and a paper in the other, but the moment he heard her footsteps he turned to face her. A smile crossed his lips briefly until his eyes fixed upon her attire, and he arched an eyebrow curiously, asking, ‘and where are you going?’

‘Out.’

He glanced over her attire at the evasive answer, his eyebrow lifting impossibly higher. ‘Where?’ he asked, dropping the paper on the couch before he moved closer. He kept a comfortable distance between them, close enough to engage her, but not enough to invade. He always remembered how much she valued her personal space even though an impulsive part of her – though she tried to tell herself that the thoughts were only brief – had started to want to close the gap more than once.

She smoothed her sleeves and asked, ‘why do you care?’

‘I can’t imagine you’ll make it far nursing your injuries. I saw Butterfingers picking up the tool you dropped on the workshop floor a few days ago because you still couldn’t bend.’

It was true – it had been a painful wound – but Tony hadn’t seen either of the wounds since the third day when she’d insisted she was capable of changing the bandages on her own.

She shrugged, reaching for the hem of her t-shirts and lifting it to reveal her stomach. All that remained on her stomach was a jagged scar, still pink and raised, but showing healing signs well beyond its time. Without thinking, he reached out, tracing the skin as if he couldn’t believe his eyes alone. Her breath hitched at the heat of his touch, his caress feather light and soothing along the still-tender skin.

‘Your heart helps you heal faster?’

‘Apparently,’ she whispered.

He pulled away suddenly, clearly concerned that he’d crossed a line, but he couldn’t hide the hesitation to lower his hand completely even after he’d broken contact.

Aviana knew better than anyone the effects of time on all things.

Tony looked up and if not for the shining mask that concealed her she knew his gaze would have locked with hers. He cleared his throat, taking a step back towards the couch, placing his mug on the coffee table, and in the moment he looked away she hastily fixed her shirt jacket, smoothing the fitted leather against her sides.

‘You’re going to APRDC tonight, aren’t you?’

‘Yes.’

He turned back to face her. Although he stood casually, hands sliding into his pockets, his expression was serious. ‘I’m going with you.’

‘No.’

If he was stunned by her blunt response, he didn’t show it. ‘We’ve discussed this; you’re not going without me. Also, people don’t tell me no. Well, except Pepper. She says no all the time, I just don’t listen.’

She couldn’t fight the smile that tugged at her lips under her mask. ‘Fine, but the only way you’re coming with me is without the suit.’

‘But–’                                  

‘Without the suit, or not at all,’ she said, and her tone left no room for argument, ‘Iron Man is too recognisable.’

‘You’re wearing your mask.’

‘You’ll be wearing one too, and it’ll be much more effective than your suit, Mr _I-am-Iron-Man_ ,’ she said, picking up the empty coffee mug. She balanced it in the palm of her hand and he glanced at it, more than a little concerned; it was a look that she’d seen frequently in their time together as he had learned more about her and her abilities.

She sent a charge through the plain metal mug, the very air around it seeming to vibrate as the metal mug began to morph, liquefying in her hand.

‘What are y–?’

‘Stay still,’ she said, bringing her hand level with his face. His eyes darted between her masked face and her hand. He flinched when the liquefied metal touched his face, the chill creeping across his cheeks. She reached up with her free hand, gently holding the back of his head to keep him in place as the metal skimmed over his skin, morphing and solidifying until the mug was only a memory.

She drew her hands away, realising she’d begun to weaver her fingers through the neat, dark strands, but it seemed he hadn’t noticed, his focus on the strange sensations he’d just experienced. He traced the perfectly formed structure with tentative fingers; the mask fit his face perfectly, yet the shining surface obscured his features.

‘You know,’ he said, voice accompanied by a tinny echo not dissimilar to the Iron Man suit, ‘that was a perfectly good mug.’

‘I’m sure you can afford to replace it. Now, go put on some dark clothes. Comfortable but not too loose, otherwise you might get caught on something. A hood would also be valuable,’ she said, directing him out of the room, his fingers still tracing the mask as he left.

It didn’t take long for him to return wearing a hooded black jacket, black track pants, and dark running shoes; they stood out in stark contrast to the clean white walls of the room, but they’d be almost impossible to spot in shadows.

‘Sorry,’ he said as he pulled some gloves on, ‘but this is all the leather I have, which is probably a good thing. I don’t think I can pull it off as well as you.’

Aviana felt the barest hint of blush warm her cheeks at the sly compliment and the wicked smirk that played across his lips. A part of her thought she should feel miffed – he probably hit on every woman he met – but she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed feeling desired, even if only a little. There had been moments over the last week, quiet moments when they’d been so focused on research or working on an improvement for the Iron Man suit that they’d huddled together, thighs almost touching, the heat of his body radiating against hers. Perhaps it was simply because she’d denied herself intimate company for so long, but she’d considered taking off her mask, considered showing Tony her face and closing the distance between them. After all, he already knew her identity… what harm would there be in revealing herself in his house? But she knew the answer to that question the moment it first popped into her mind; taking off the mask meant lowering her defences, showing him every emotion, every thought and feeling.

The thoughts lingered as they headed down to the workshop, making their way along the line of cars. It was difficult to ignore Tony’s jaw-dropping collection, to pass up a drive, but they had no choice; each would be too recognisable, too eye-catching. They couldn’t risk taking one of his cars even if she distorted the metal of the number plate. 

She stopped beside a polished black car, running her fingers over the familiar contours of the metal until she reached the driver-side door.

‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ Tony asked.

‘No one will know this car. It can’t be traced to either of us, and we’re the only ones that know it exists,’ she said as he slid into the seat beside her. Aviana revelled in the comfort she found in her seat, in the familiarity of the leather steering wheel in her hands. For a moment, she just enjoyed being in her car again, in the only connection to her previous life. Tony didn’t seem to appreciate the silence, though, his voice penetrating her momentary contentment as he asked, ‘don’t you need the keys?’

She reached to the base of the steering wheel, feeling the smooth metal that disappeared into the dashboard. A surge of electricity sparked from her fingertips and the engine roaring to life. She glanced at him, catching him in his moment of restrained awe. He’d dropped his hands into his lap, clasping them together; it was an innocent enough action, but the muscles in his thumb bulged and flexed as if he was fighting to keep himself from fidgeting. Aviana had quickly learnt that Tony wasn’t used to handing control over to other people. He handed off tasks, had placed his company into Pepper’s capable hands, but to actually leave himself in the hands of another was clearly rare.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have a choice in the matter; she’d never entrusted her Mustang to anyone in the decade she’d owned it, not even her brother.

The sound of squealing tires filled the garage as they took off, and Tony was gripped by the sudden urge to test his seatbelt as Aviana put the classic through its paces, drifting around corners and tearing along at speeds that would make even the most hardened drivers fearful. He glanced at her in the muted light of the car, watching as she confidently guided the car along the unfamiliar winding roads towards the outskirts of Echino, and he knew that beneath the carefully contoured metal mask she was smiling. 

Probably for the first time since he had brought her to his home.

She was wary of him, so much so that she’d remained masked the entirety of her stay. He’d earned some amount of trust; she’d spoken of her experiences as a vigilante, had shared her knowledge about the APRDC and entrusted him to help her dismantle the organisation, but he’d learned nothing more about _her_ beyond her identity.

He knew he would have to earn her trust – if she had any left to give.

‘So, what’s the plan?’ he asked, still trying to ease his death grip on the seat as she sped through the streets.

‘We tap into the security feeds. I want to know what they’ve been up to.’

‘And we’re going to do that how?’

‘Tony,’ she said, sounding surprised, ‘you just saw what I can do to an engine. Just imagine what I can do when I have a Stark Industries compact screen and the power supply of a large corporation to play with.’

‘But I–’

‘You were asleep,’ she said, pulling the device from her pocket, ‘and I figured that you had enough of these to spare one.’

He didn’t get a chance to ask any burning questions, Aviana raising her hand for quiet as she pulled up in a quiet back street. She slipped from the car, disappearing into the shadows before Tony could stumble out behind her. He followed, lacking the stealth that she had mastered. He realised rather belatedly that he’d never even tried to step lightly. As Iron Man, he never needed to be quiet or inconspicuous; he could simply barge through doors and break whatever he pleased – including expensive military technology, apparently – without anyone raising an eyebrow, so doing it Aviana’s way… to say he was out of his depth was an understatement.

He rushed to her side, surprised that even his lightest footsteps could be so loud.  As he stopped beside her, the skin of his hands clapping against the brick wall she had tucked herself against so carefully, he cringed. He glanced at her, and by the way her head tilted he knew that she was rolling her eyes at him.

Surely he could be quieter?

‘Done attracting attention?’ she asked, ‘because every single guard here carries a gun and if we get separated you can’t just armour up.’

‘Sorry,’ he whispered, trying to channel the stealth that she seemed to exude naturally. She looked away, making a hole in the fence for them to slip through, and he steeled himself. He could not hinder her, not in this, not when it was so important. If he had even the smallest chance to help her take down the men who’d destroyed her life and taken everything from her, then he wasn’t going to blow it.

When she reached for the closest pipe he was still in awe of the power that was tucked in her tiny frame as the metal melted into her hand, pooling before it rose and morphed into a ball. She reached from him, beckoning him towards her.  He showed no reluctance, walking straight to her hand and allowing her to slide the zip of his jacket. She stared for a moment and Tony knew that her gaze was fixed on the glow emanating from his chest. 

They both understood how it felt to depend on something to survive. 

She brushed her hand over the reactor before smoothing it along his collarbone, her slender fingers coming to rest gently against his neck.

‘This is going to be cold,’ she said, metal slithering from her hand. He gasped as it met his skin, the icy strands caressing his chest as it moved beneath his shirt. He shivered, yet heat coursed through his veins. Even with her eyes shielded by the mask, he knew that her gaze was locked with his, knew she’d felt the quickened beat of his heart as her finger brushed over his pulse.

She gave a short nod, encouraging him to move, and he realised she’d created a bulletproof second skin, one made with only her hands. 

Those slender, delicate hands.

He reached for her before he could fully comprehend what he planned to do. He gently grasped her wrist, expecting her to pull away as he brought her fingers to his masked lips, wishing they weren’t separated by metal. 

‘Tony…’

He lifted his gaze, seeing nothing but his own reflection. She turned the moment he dropped her hand, seeming to meld with the shadows as she walked away from him, her shoulders rigid, the metal tips of her fingers singing softly as she rubbed them together.

For the briefest moment he had held lightning in his hand and he’d let her slip away. 

She still didn’t trust him, that much was clear, but when his touch had lingered she had not pulled away. She seemed to enjoy it, her pulse quickening beneath his fingers as the electricity that danced in her veins tickled his skin. The way she had said his name, so quiet that he wondered if he had imagined the breathless word, but he felt it as if she’d brushed her lips over his ear.

They navigated through the rest of the compound in silence, neither of them uttering a word as they edged closer to the main technological facility. She felt sicker with every step closer, memories assailing her. Although it had been remodelled since the night of the fire, the building looming ahead reminded her of all the work she had done and lost. She’d poured so many hours into her work to try and make life better for people who needed help, had laboured more hours than she could count hoping to build a better future for those who needed it most.

Her chest constricted. She leant against a wall, tears burning in her eyes. She felt like she was suffocating in her own skin, the mask weighing on her, but she resisted the urge to take it off when Tony appeared at her back. She could not show any vulnerability, any weakness, not in front of the man who was tearing down the shields that she’d relied on these past years. 

‘Aviana?’

She glanced at him. ‘I’m fine,’ she whispered, trying desperately to hold back her emotions as she turned from him, ‘I can access the feed from that fuse box. Stay here and watch for guards.’

She shot forward, keeping low as she darted to the fuse box. It was easy enough to remove the lock and open the box. With the compact screen in hand, she quickly broke through APRDC’s firewalls, shifting through the feeds to make sure there were no guards nearby who might stumble upon hers and Tony’s clandestine mission. Assured they would not be disturbed, she delved deeper, easily finding the archived footage. She downloaded the camera feed for the previous month, as well as research data; it was all the evidence she would need.

She carefully tucked the wiring back in place, making sure nothing was out of place before she locked the box again. She stared at the compact screen, knowing what she now held in her hand, knowing the information could be her salvation.

She tucked the device back into her pocket, checking for guards before she slipped through the darkness back to Tony. He was crouched against the wall, his eyes darting as he kept watch. 

‘Got it,’ she whispered as she crouched beside him, ‘let’s go.’

He nodded as she led him back through the shadows, stopping only to hide from the sight of a guard. Just as Aviana had said, he was armed with a rifle.

Stark Industries.

He cursed himself, praying that she would not notice the logo as they pushed forward out of sight. He would be calling Pepper first thing in the morning to instruct her to terminate all contracts with the APRDC. They might not construct munitions anymore, but he wouldn’t have them carrying any of the old tech. He would have to lie about his reasons, but the thought that his company had helped the people who destroyed Aviana’s life made his stomach churn. 

They reached the fence, slipping back through the opening. Tony watched as Aviana pulled the fence back in one piece. She closed it as easily as if she were closing curtains before they rushed back to the car, sliding into the seats. 

She kept the headlights off as they eased away from the compound. They returned on the back roads, keeping the lights dimmed until they started to encounter more traffic in the bustling suburbs of Malibu. Even at one in the morning, the streets were still full, the Saturday nightlife in full swing. As she drove she glanced out the window, watching as couples and friends drifted down the street, dancing and smiling as they walked side by side, arm in arm, and she felt the dark, twisting pang of jealousy in her gut.

As she eased her Mustang down the driveway, back in the safety of Tony’s home, she dared a glance his way. He’d taken the mask off and was rubbing his stubbled jaw. She cut the engine and climbed from the car before he could speak, pulling the compact screen from her pocket. 

‘Jarvis,’ she called, holding the device up, ‘I need you to tap into this device and download the new files.’

‘Sir?’ The AI sounded concerned; it was the first time she’d made such a request.

‘Do whatever she says, Jarvis.’

‘Of course,’ he replied, the workshop lighting up with screens, ‘I can also access the live camera feeds with the coding you downloaded. Shall I?’

‘Yes. I want you to record all experimental activity related to current research projects, as well as feeds in the higher departments.’

‘I will catalogue them for you so that you can access them with the utmost efficiency.’

‘Thank you, Jarvis.’

She placed the compact screen on the closest desk. The metal tips on her fingers slid up to form rings on her fingers before she unzipped her jacket. It was still warm, the heat of the day lingering in the workshop. She wanted desperately to leap into the pool on the balcony on humid nights such as this, but it wasn’t like she’d packed bathers.  

‘Are you hungry?’ Tony asked as placed his mask on the desk. He walked ahead of her as he unzipped his own jacket, going one further to pull his shirt over his head. He still wore the carefully sculpted metal armour that she had made for him, the joints that had been formed into the vest flexing with his movements. He seemed to have forgotten he was wearing it until he went to scratch his ribs, his nails scraping against the surface. ‘Oh, uh.’ He glanced back. ‘Would you mind...?’

She placed her hands on his chest, the metal liquefying at her touch. It rolled off his skin, sluicing up her arms. With every drop, more of his body was revealed, his tanned skin tight over toned muscles. She couldn’t stop her gaze from darting down, and as the last thread of metal wrapped around her arms he shivered, a soft breeze caressing his heated skin, those taught muscles clenching.

She dragged her eyes away, hoping her mask concealed the fact that she’d looked at all. ‘Have anywhere that I can put this down?’ she asked, the metal still flowing around her skin.

‘Paperweight?’ he suggested. The metal pooled on the desk, forming into a perfect cube on top of some printouts and Tony nodded appreciatively. ‘Stylish.’

A devilish smile crossed his lips. He lifted his hand as if to reach for her, and for a moment she thought he planned to trace the cheek of her mask. She’d wanted to relish it at the compound, to feel the caress of his lips on her skin, but her mind had rebelled at the thought, her emotions too raw. Now she wished he’d take her hand again, was so focused on the thought that she didn’t hear the swift steps that descended the workshop stairs.

‘Tony, I know it’s late, but I realised I lost one of my earrings that my mother gave and I was just wondering if–’

Aviana shot to the side, ducking behind a desk before Pepper could reach the last step. Tony dropped into the closest chair, picking up the nearest device and making himself look busy.

‘–you’ve seen it?’ Pepper finished as she came through the door.

‘Hmm?’ he looked up as if he’d been too immersed in his work to notice her, but he knew that she could see through his ruse.

‘What are you up to?’ she asked as she folded her arms over her chest, ‘and why are you shirtless?’

‘Tinkering. It was too hot upstairs so I came down here to cool down,’ he said, waving at the half-finished objects on the desk as she walked towards him.

Pepper picked up the metal cube, weighing it in her hands. ‘This is new.’

‘It arrived today. Dummy keeps knocking stuff off so I thought this might at least help a little. And it’s stylish,’ he added.

She put it back down, wiping the small smudges from the shiny surface as she asked, ‘what are you really up to?’

‘Nothing. Just because I fight crime as Iron Man doesn’t mean I don’t get bored sometimes,’ he said, leaning back in his chair and trying his best to look offended at the suggestion that he was acting suspiciously.

‘Well, do you need anything while I’m here?’

‘Pepper, you’re the CEO now. Taking care of me isn’t your job anymore, it’s Jarvis’s. Or maybe Happy’s. I think they work together for the most part.’

She watched him for a moment, keen, assessing gaze going over him once before she said, ‘okay, but can you let me know if you see my earring? I’m afraid I’ve lost it.’

‘I’ll look around.’

She smiled, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. ‘Thanks,’ she said, turning on her heel.

‘Actually Pepper, there is something small you can do for me,’ he said, scribbling quickly on a piece of paper before he chased after her, ‘just take care of this real quick when you can. I’ll explain later.’

‘But–’

‘Please, Pepper.’ He put on his most charming smile. ‘It’s important.’

She glanced down at the small page before she met his gaze again. She saw the depth of his emotion, the small plea within his eyes. ‘Okay, Tony.’

‘Thank you.’ He touched her arm, an understanding passing between them before she ascended the steps, disappearing into the upper levels of the house. Once the click of her heels faded, Tony turned. ‘She’s gone.’

Aviana crept out from behind the desk. He’d tucked his hands back into his pocket, his posture guarded. ‘I’m sorry, Tony,’ she said, leaning against the cool metal edge, ‘I trust you, but I’ve been hiding for years. I can’t turn that off.’ 

He nodded, pursing his lips. ‘But do you really? Trust me, that is?’ he asked, levelling his piercing gaze at her. She wasn’t surprised he questioned her, not after how tentative she’d acted around him, not after she’d brushed him away and kept her distance. She wanted to say that she did trust him, wanted to tell him how desperately she wished to let him in, but her tongue felt like lead in her mouth. She didn’t stop him when he turned away or when he started up the stairs two at a time. Instead, she turned to begin the work that lay ahead, trying to ignore the burning in her eyes and the ache in her chest.


	5. Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... _When he finally opened his eyes – slowly in case she put on another light show – she was standing at the edge of the pool, a towel wrapped tightly around her and her mask firmly in place. He could see her shoulders rise and fall with laboured breaths, could feel her anger crackle in the air around them_...

* * *

**Chapter Five**  
**Contact**

Jarvis’s sorting system proved itself to be as efficient as he’d insisted; the AI had compiled and categorised the footage and documents Aviana had obtained, allowing Aviana and Tony to delve into research the evening following their reconnaissance mission at the APRDC compound. They sifted through the files together, learning as much as they could about the current projects, yet there was an uneasiness in the air that hadn’t been there in the days or weeks before, one borne of the tense moment they’d shared in the early hours of that morning. They kept their heads down, a yawning distance between them; Aviana hadn’t realised how much she’d appreciated Tony’s presence as well as his emotional and intellectual one after so many years alone.

Aviana focused all of her energy on absorbing as much intelligence as possible, ignoring the sickening churning in her stomach – both from the rift between her and Tony, and the disturbing content of the APRDC files. The longer she sifted through the documents the more she struggled against the urge to fry the screens she read from as her distress turned to rage. Her life’s research had been warped beyond recognition, physical aids turned into destructive technologies intended for combat. By late evening, after spending hours staring at the screens, she could no longer bear the pent-up rage.

‘I need a break,’ she said sharply, pushing her chair back from the desk, feeling a desperate need to make something explode. _Anything_. Her skin tingled with electricity, sweat clinging to her. She stalked towards the closest external door, stripping off her light cardigan as she burst out into the night.

Tony followed her but she held out her hand the moment he emerged from the workshop, calling for him to stop. He’d planned to ignore the directive, determined to support her, but he was forced to skid to a halt on the tiles as sparks began to dance on her skin. She gripped the railing, knuckles as white as the powder-coated metal she clung to. She stood at the edge of the balcony, and as the cool breeze blowing off the water below swirled around her she released a veritable storm.

Electricity arched into the sky, filling the clouds with a flash of light and an explosive crack of sound. Tony ducked instinctively, ears throbbing, the _boom_ slamming into his chest. He tried to keep his gaze on her but had to squint through the bright light, able only to see her blurred outline as another bolt arched from her and exploded in the sky above, the physical form of her rage as terrifying as it was beautiful. 

When the light faded he could still see pale sparks darting over her skin, seeming to roll over her body from every direction as they reached for her chest. She sank to the floor of the balcony, the tiles cold and hard beneath her knees. She pressed her hands to the solid floor, using the connection to ground herself, the light breeze soothing as it caressed the back of her neck. She took a deep, shuddering breath; the physical release of the excess energy had brought relief with it, her thoughts clearing, her stomach settling.

‘Aviana…’

She glanced at Tony, only then remembering that she was not alone. She stared into his eyes, seeing the concern and fear swirling in the tumult of emotions within him. She always saw the fear within others, always recognised the emotion that constantly swirled within her, but he seemed more… concerned. For her? 

‘Sorry,’ she whispered, ‘I just… I couldn’t handle it anymore. I tried to compartmentalise but I can’t.’ She looked away, head hanging. ‘I wanted to help people like my grandfather did. I wanted my work to make a difference in people’s lives for the better.’

Tony edged closer, sitting beside her on the balcony. He wanted to reach for her, but his thoughts turned to her reaction when he’d brought her hand to the lips of his mask a mere twenty-four hours previous.

‘We’re going to stop them,’ he said finally, not knowing of any other way to comfort her, ‘I know it’s frustrating, but we’ve got access to their research and the facility schematics. We can build a plan of attack now.’

‘I know,’ she said, but her voice was soft, defeated. He couldn’t blame her; he’d felt the same, staring at those screens and watching how distressed she became with every passing hour. Mask or not, he could see it in her posture, in her slumped shoulders and the way she clenched her hands until her knuckles turned white and she left marks in her palms.

He felt the urge to reach for her again but kept his hands firmly tucked at his sides, too scared she’d run from him. ‘Why don’t we take a break?’ he suggested, ‘you need rest. Jarvis is capable of cataloguing the information as it comes. We won’t miss anything.’

She glanced up at him, seeming to assess his proposal for a moment before she finally conceded. ‘You’re right. I don’t think I can handle another minute tonight, anyway.’ Beneath her mask, she managed a smile. ‘Goodnight, Tony,’ she said, rising from the tiles. She scooped up her cardigan and heading for the stairs, feeling at least a little better than she had before. Although she knew she would struggle to sleep, he was right. She was exhausted to her very core, and she knew she should at least try to get some rest.  

‘Aviana…’

She paused with her foot on the first step. He’d tucked his hands in his pockets and was leaning against the balcony door. His posture was casual enough, but a mix of emotions played on his face. ‘Tomorrow, before we start work again,’ he started, pausing as if searching for the words, ‘I’ll understand if you say no, but I thought… perhaps you’d like to have a drink with me?’

That was odd. She’d shared numerous drinks and meals with Tony over the last few weeks. They’d settled into something of a routine, chatting over coffee as they perused the morning paper – it was hard not to share such time when living in the same house. Why would he feel the need to ask unless…

‘Like, a date drink?’ she asked, barely believing the words as they slipped from her lips. At the word ‘date’ his shoulders visibly stiffened, belying his casual demeanour. She almost wished she could take the question back – thinking she’d jumped to conclusions and made him uncomfortable – but he _smiled._

‘If you want it to be.’ 

She wanted it more than she could put into words as she stared at him. She wanted it desperately, so desperately her ‘yes’ burned on her tongue, clawing for freedom.

But why would he?

She knew better than to think he was hoping he’d score an easy lay; his playboy antics preceded him, but he’d shown himself to be much more than the handsome face and casual attitude emphasised in the press. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder if he just felt sorry for her. She’d told him she’d felt lonely, isolated from the world she’d known, that the last date she’d had was long before she’d discovered the APRDC’s dirty secrets (and that said date had been a disaster). Perhaps it was because she’d been so distant with him. It was plausible enough that he simply wanted to get to know her better after working so closely together the last few weeks, particularly the last few days. It should have been a calming thought, but the truth was that it unsettled her. Did she even know herself anymore? Did she remember what it felt like to be Danielle Brooker? Or was she just the Alchemist? A vigilante. A faceless, dangerous, dark figure – a predator seeking prey.

She pursed her lips beneath the mask, glad he couldn’t see how hopeless she felt as she said, ‘Tony, you’re intelligent, charming, funny. You could have any woman you wanted, and the truth is that in different circumstances – maybe before my life went to shit – I would have fallen over myself at the opportunity, but I’m not who I was three years ago or even three weeks ago.’ She glanced down, unwilling to see the emotions churning within the depths of his gaze as she struggled to deal with her own. ‘I know a part of you still sees me as a puzzle to be solved. The truth is that there aren’t many pieces that aren’t torn or missing altogether. I’m damaged goods… and I don’t deserve you,’ she said in a low whisper.

Tony hoped he’d misheard her but deep down he knew he’d heard correctly. He could do nothing but watch Aviana ascend the stairs, his heart a lead weight in his chest, his feet rooted on the workshop floor as he tried to process her words. Chasing her would do no good; fear forced her to remain at a distance – fear of being vulnerable, of opening herself to someone in a world which had been so cruel to her.

He couldn’t deny that she intrigued him, but it wasn’t because of the mystery she shrouded herself in. It was because of the tumult of emotions in her voice, the fire and determination that resided within every word and action. He wanted to help her wield that fire with all of the fury that raged within her, a fury that he felt coursing through his veins. She might never show him her face, show him the soft smile and captivating eyes he’d seen in pictures, but he would never forgive himself for giving up. So, until she was ready to meet him halfway, he would cling to every scrap of her true self that slipped from beneath that impenetrable mask, her passionate personality a beacon for the woman she’d _become_ , for the woman who had survived despite the odds being against her.

* * *

Aviana slept only a few restless hours, her mind tortured by her memories. Each time she’d woken, she’d been drenched in a sheen of sweat, each sharp intake of breath rasping in her dry throat. After three hours of tossing and turning she gave up, sitting up in the bed. She ran her fingers through her sweat-damp hair and whipped it into a bun, allowing the soft breeze coming from the climate control system to caress her heated skin before she let the chocolate waves tumble down her back again. 

She slid to the edge of the bed to walk to the window, pulling the heavy curtains aside to look out into the calm night. She could see the dark water and hear the waves as they crashed into the cliffs, and on the balcony below her, there was a pool, large and perfectly heated. She’d wanted desperately to dive into it for days, and the urge that she’d felt earlier in the evening grew stronger with every moment of another muggy Malibu night. 

She looked at the clock on the bedside table; Tony would be asleep deep within the mansion on his king-size bed. She was sure she would be safe enough to take a quick dip to cool off at such an early hour of the morning.

She grabbed a towel from her bathroom and sprinted quietly down the stairs, her bare feet making hardly a noise on the pristine floors. It was dark within the house except for streams of moonlight cascading through the tall windows, so bright that even without her contacts enhancing her sight, she could easily navigate between the precious art and furniture as she worked her way down to the pool. 

With one last look around to reassure herself that she was alone, she stripped down to her underwear and reached for her mask. When her fingers made contact with the metal she hesitated, the cold seeping through her skin; she’d not dared to take it off except to shower behind a locked door.

 _You can put it back on, anytime_ , she reminded herself. It was a reassuring thought, allowing her to steel her resolve. The metal liquefied, peeling away from her face to form intricate patterns over her cheeks, forehead, and ears like fine filigree jewellery. Free of the obstruction, she took a much needed, clear breath. The warm night-time breeze caressed her face, the air sweeter without the scent of metal.

She tucked her clothes on a chair a safe distance from the water and slid into the pool. As the water enveloped her she felt tension unwind from her limbs, her body relaxing at the sense of weightlessness the water gave. She dived beneath the surface, coming up only when her lungs were fit to burst, then she dragged in another breath before diving under again, swimming however she pleased until she eventually settled into a rhythm, doing steady laps. The exercise felt good, better than running on a treadmill or step machine. She could feel all of her muscles working as she switched from freestyle to breaststroke to butterfly until she lost count of the laps she’d completed. She felt free within the water, and for a few peaceful moments, she could think of nothing but her breathing, of the cooling sensation of the water as she paced back and forth, and of feeling safe – truly safe – for the first time in two years.

* * *

Tony grumbled, restlessly rolling to his side from his usual sprawl as a voice dragged him from slumber. He folded the pillow over his head with a yawn, unwilling to wake despite Jarvis’ incessantly saying, ‘Sir’, the word growing louder with every repetition. 

‘Sir,’ Jarvis said tersely, ‘Sir, I have detected movement on the balcony.’

 _Interesting_ , he thought as he rubbed an eye with the heel of his palm. It had been a while since anyone had tried to break in; clearly, they didn’t know whose property they were trespassing on.

‘Where?’ he asked as he dragged himself up into a seated position, vaguely awake now that his curiosity had kicked in.

‘The pool area.’

He threw his feet over the edge of the bed, pulling on the nearest pair of track pants. ‘Have they been in the house?’ he asked as he walked to the door.

‘They have not.’

He paused. ‘Why did you wake me then?’ he asked, ‘it must be Aviana,’ he added, though he did have some doubts; she’d never left her room at night to wander around the house before, let alone to go down to the pool. She preferred to stay inside and train in the gym. 

‘I cannot confirm the identity of the intruder,’ the AI said, ‘shall I call the police?’

‘No, Jarvis. I’ll go look.’

He left his room, stepping as quietly as he could down the stairs, unsure of who or what he would find. He approached the door almost on tiptoe, slowing as he neared the glass. He peered out at the moonlit balcony. At the edge of the pool, he spotted a small pile of clothes and a rolled towel, and he could see ripples on the surface of the water. When she emerged at the far end of the pool, he knew it was Aviana as his eyes fell up her rich chocolate coloured hair, the wet-darkened strands cascading down her back as she rose in the shallow end of the pool. She reached up to smooth her hair back from her face, her movements calm and casual. For a moment he even believed that she was not wearing her mask, that he had seen her cheek as she curled her hair over her shoulder. He watched her plait the wet strands, watched the way her muscles moved in her shoulders and back. In the glistening moonlight reflecting off the water, she looked ethereal and fragile, contrasting so sharply against the multitude of jagged scars sliced across her skin wherever his gaze fell.

He dared to open the door and take a step forward, instantly realising his mistake as his foot made the slightest suctioning sound on the tiles. Aviana’s shoulders went rigid. She electrified the water as she turned to face the potential threat, forcing Tony to shield his eyes from the blinding light. He heard a splash of movement and the patter of wet feet. When he finally opened his eyes – slowly in case she put on another light show – she was standing at the edge of the pool, a towel wrapped tightly around her and her mask firmly in place. He could see her shoulders rise and fall with laboured breaths, could feel her anger crackle in the air around them.

‘What are you doing, Tony?’ she asked as she pulled the towel up higher in an attempt to conceal the scars on her chest.

‘Jarvis said that he’d detected someone out here. I came to investigate. It is my house, after all.’

‘I could have been an intruder.’

‘In the pool?’ he asked, unable to stop a smirk from forming on his lips. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, daring her to challenge him, not knowing her focus had shifted from the conversation. Beneath her mask, her eyes darted over him. The arc reactor in his chest glowed bright, a beacon that drew her gaze over his torso, the corded muscles roped over his stomach and arms bulging beneath his tanned skin, flexing with every breath.

She dragged her gaze up. ‘I wasn’t sleeping well,’ she finally admitted, ‘I thought a swim might help.’

‘Do you even have bathers?’  

She shrugged, trying to be nonchalant as she said, ‘well, no, but a bikini is just a glorified bra anyway.’ 

Tony chuckled, dropping his arms from his chest. ‘You’re right. They are just fancy underwear, really.’

Before Aviana could protest, he stripped down to his boxers and sprinted to the edge of the pool. He leapt off the edge, pulling himself into a tight ball as he soared through the air, sending up a wave of water as he hit the surface with an almighty splash. When he emerged, his dark hair was slicked over his temple and his skin glistened with water. She laughed, a sweet, velvety sound that he’d been blessed by only a few times before, despite his best efforts.

Tony swam to the edge, leaning on the tiles; though he couldn’t see her eyes, he’d seen her head tilt the smallest fraction, knew she was _looking_. He pushed himself up, extending his arms, muscles bulging as he supported his weight on the edge. Droplets of water slid down his skin, tracing each defined line, and she couldn’t resist, her gaze following every drop.

He looked up at her. ‘You said yourself that a bikini is just a glorified bra. I’m in my underwear. Let’s be fair, now.’

She felt her stomach flip at the heat in his gaze. ‘Should we?’ she managed to say, impressed by how level she kept her voice.  

‘Yes.’ Despite the wicked look in his eyes, his smile was warm and comforting. ‘Keep your mask on if you want to. I am all for pushing boundaries, but I… I want you to be comfortable.’  

Tony had had many labels attached to him in the past: playboy, inventor, hot-headed, arrogant. No one had ever called him kind, despite how well it fit him. From the first moment, he’d been honest with her, open. He’d always allowed her space, and he’d never asked her to remove her mask even though he knew exactly what she looked like because he was keenly aware of how much her anonymity meant to her. She’d been in hiding so long she’d forgotten what it felt like to be treated like a person – she’d often treated herself like a science project, testing her limits, experimenting with her powers. But Tony made her feel human again.

‘Okay, just… just promise not to stare,’ she said.

That intense heat flared in his gaze. ‘That’s not a promise I can make, but not for the reasons you’re thinking of.’

He’d seen some of her scars when he’d stitched up her stomach and leg. She seemed ashamed to bear so many marks on her skin, fearful that they detracted from her beauty, but in Tony’s eyes it was quite the opposite; each scar told a story, of someone she’d saved, of a criminal’s plan she’d foiled, of the events she’d survived.

He pushed himself further into the pool to allow her some space, treading water as she stood on the edge, and he thought she seemed almost nervous. He had no idea how right he was. Beneath the mask she worried her lip, the two sides of her self clashing with vigour. One side, which was so used to hiding wanted her to turn and walk away, but the other, a long-silenced scrap of her former self, demanded she join him.

 _If I can trust anyone_ , she thought, _it’s Tony_. 

With the steeliest resolve that she could muster, Aviana took a steadying breath and dropped the towel. As she stood in there, wearing only a black sports bra and plain black cotton underwear, she thought she heard his breath hitch as he swept his gaze over her. She tried not to dwell on it as she dove into the water with hardly a splash, swimming past his legs and emerging behind him.

As she smoothed her hair back she drew her mask away from her face to form the delicate filigree frame, the metal threading through the wet strands as he turned to look for her. She knew the moment his eyes fell upon her; only their soft exhalations could be heard as he met her unhindered gaze for the first time, no sheen of the paper thin metal reflecting his own, coffee-coloured gaze back. In the photos he’d seen of her, her eyes had been a pale blue with hints green. The gases she’d been exposed to had damaged more than her heart. Her eyes were now a shocking red that glowed eerily in the moonlight, the irises appearing to bleed out into the veins woven intricately over the whites. Much as it should have startled him, he felt only awe. He was seeing her for the first time, truly seeing her high cheekbones and pale lips, the long lashes that cast shadows over her cheeks.

She was letting him in.

‘Aviana, you–’

‘Tony, don’t… I’ve not looked someone in the eyes for two years, but I want to trust you. I believe I can trust you. I know what you must think of me…’

He cupped her face, calloused thumb tracing the curve of her jaw, and the action so surprised her she could hardly think let alone speak.

‘You’re beautiful.’

‘You’re just saying that,’ she whispered, closing her eyes again; still, she leaned into his touch until he withdrew it. She’d been expecting him to withdraw but moments later she felt the warm graze of his fingertips on her chest. He traced the scars on her collarbone, then the edge of the heavy scarring above her heart, his touch feather light and soothing against the pale, raised marks. He laid his hand there, feeling the steady beat of the mechanical heart. She’d endured more in two years than most would endure in two lifetimes, yet she’d refused to yield.

‘You said that you trust me,’ he whispered, his other hand settling tentatively on her hip, urging her closer, ‘so trust me…’

They were so close she could see nothing but his eyes, could feel nothing but the caress of his breath on her lips and his hands on her skin. She could not resist his heat, his nearness, and when he closed the distance between them she melted into his embrace. His fingers wound into her hair at the nape of her neck, her clockwork heart fluttering at the heady sensation of his skin pressing tight against hers, at her first taste of intimacy in two long years. When he pulled back his lips remained close to hers, their noses touching as they recovered their breath.

‘Tony,’ she whispered, ‘is this something you really want to start? I’m not even sure what we’re starting, but I… I’m not good at this. I’m not good at opening my heart to people.’

‘Neither were any of the women that I’ve been with,’ he admitted. She didn’t flinch at the words; she knew his reputation, had her own list of lovers, and she appreciated his honesty. ‘The difference is that I’ve never wanted them to open their hearts to me; it’s too complicated, especially after–’ he placed her hand over the arc reactor– ‘this. You understand what I’ve been through, and I don’t care how long it takes for you to let me in. I can be patient. One day, when you’ve dismantled the APRDC, you’ll be ready to find yourself again, and I’ll be waiting. In the meantime, I want you to know me. So please… I know it’s important but I want you to forget the organisation for one night. We can work during the day, but once night falls, we’ll play music as loud as we want and we’ll dance. We’ll order in and drink until we can’t see straight. Let me make just one night _yours_.’   

She wondered for a moment if she was dreaming, if she was still tucked beneath the silken sheets tossing and turning restlessly, but when she reached up to trace his jaw with her fingertips she could feel the prickly stubble on his jaw. Tony Stark – the supposedly reckless, arrogant womanizer – was bearing his heart and soul even knowing she might fling it back in his face.

‘Like a date?’ she asked, unable to hide the tentative edge in her voice.

He smiled as he drew her closer again, brushing his lips over hers as he said, ‘like a date.’


	6. Research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _...He dropped his shirt from his face, seeming to click his tongue for a moment in thought before he stripped his shirt off completely, balling it up and tossing it aside before he strode closer. Her eyes instantly wandered his way and she snapped them closed as if concentrating on her reps. Aviana had seen him on TV for years before they’d met; she knew that if there was one thing that Tony Stark was good at, it was showing off._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _And showing off he certainly was..._

* * *

**Chapter Six  
** **Research**

Aviana woke significantly less stressed and exhausted than she had been only hours before. She and Tony had lingered in the pool for nearly an hour, talking quietly as they drifted back and forth. She’d been so calm when she’d returned to her bed she fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

She roused quickly, pulling on a clean set of work-out clothes. She reached for a t-shirt out of habit, but as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, she dropped the shirt. She was wearing only leggings, a sports bra, and crop top; she wasn’t even wearing her mask, she suddenly realised, the metal still lining her face with a filigree pattern that weaved into her hair, holding it back. It had been weeks since she had looked properly in the mirror without her mask or her contacts, her startling red eyes staring back.

Tony was right. The woman she had become, no matter how scarred and broken, was who she was now, and she was _strong_. 

She pulled on her running shoes and went down to the gym. It was just after eight and she was determined to get a solid hour of cardio in before breakfast. She needed to keep her fitness and her strength up; equipped with extensive documentation, they would make their move on the APRDC any day now. 

Aviana plugged a set of earphones into the console of the treadmill, flicking through news channels on the screen as she started her warm up. She stopped on a music channel as she picked up to a run and ramped up the incline; within minutes she could feel a sheen of sweat developing over her skin, her breath quickening. As the countdown on the music channel worked down from fifteen to one, another countdown started and she kept running, her clockwork heart allowing her to keep her pace as it beat within her, as efficient and reliable as ever. When she hit the hour mark she slowed to a walk for a quick cool down, thirsty but energised. She took a quick drink and moved on to weights. She’d never enjoyed such a well-equipped gym as Tony’s.

It was well after nine when she went back upstairs to hunt for breakfast, feeling satisfied with her cardio but feeling she needed to work on her strength training.  Although she healed quickly, her leg still felt weak after the knife wound. 

Light was streaming into the kitchen through the tall glass windows, the sun falling bright and warm on her skin the moment she entered. She basked in it for a moment before she opened the large fridge to stare longingly at the food within. Tony had always said to make herself at home, and she knew that he truly meant those words, but a little part of her still felt awful eating food she hadn’t paid for. She would have to do some engine work on all of his cars for him, she decided; she’d noticed that one of his classics had a rough idle. At the very least she could fix that issue, if not service the engine from top to bottom she thought as she delved into a tub of yoghurt and grabbed fruit to make a smoothie. 

She was enjoying the smooth strawberry flavour of the yoghurt when a cough startled her. She spun around; the blender had covered the sound of his footsteps, allowing him to sneak into the kitchen behind her back. He was leaning against the bench, a smirk on his lips – clearly he was pleased that he’d finally managed to sneak up on her.

Aviana stopped the blender, acutely aware of how little she was wearing as she glanced down at her arms. The bright sunshine made her scars more obvious, particularly the one on her chest. 

 _He said you’re beautiful,_ she thought, desperately trying to reassure herself as his eyes wandered, but she couldn’t help a small part of her mind fearing it had all been a lie.

‘Did you save some for me?’ he asked, stepping closer. He peered into the tub, eyes lighting up as he said, ‘ooh, you did.’

He pinched the spoon from her fingers, using the opportunity her surprise afforded him to take the tub as well, finish the yoghurt with a few quick spoonfuls. He smiled and she caught the almost boyish glint in his eyes before he turned towards the fridge. She watched as he opened the doors, enjoying the view as the fitted tank top stretched with his movements, contouring to the muscles beneath and drawing her eyes down to the waistband of his track pants. It felt wrong watching him, even after spending so much time with him in the pool skin to skin, but it had been so long since she had had such masculine company, let alone such attractive company. Despite how much she enjoyed it, it was almost overwhelming. 

She dragged her eyes up when he turned back to her, a carton of milk in hand. ‘You’re not wearing your mask,’ he said, passing her a glass for her smoothie before he retrieved his own.

‘I guess it seemed silly now. I mean, I took it off for you last night.’

‘I know,’ he said, reaching up, pausing for a moment as if afraid she might turn away. He traced his calloused thumb along her cheek. ‘I don’t want you to ever feel that you need to hide from me. Just make sure it’s your choice not to wear it.’

‘I like this,’ she said, leaning into his touch, ‘this won’t make sense, but I… I like feeling like a person again.’

* * *

After breakfast they headed straight for the workshop. The moment they reached the bottom step, Jarvis announced that he’d finished compiling the new data he’d collected from the company’s servers, bringing them up to date with the APRDC’s latest research. Aviana took notes on each project, cataloguing their intended ‘public’ uses in parallel to the true intent of their design. 

Tony sifted through the camera footage, directing Jarvis to track the patterns of the day and night guards for the facility and create a timed 3D map. He added the various security systems and studied the map closely, calculating the most efficient and safest route to the inner rooms of the research and testing facilities, as well as the secure storerooms where they’d find the final pieces of evidence they needed to expose the company and destroy it.

‘I think I have it,’ he said finally, stepping back to admire his work, waving Aviana over. The digital 3D model hung in mid-air, rotating slowly. ‘Jarvis, run a timed simulation of the entry and exit strategy, accounting for a five per cent variable in guard shift change over and monitoring patterns.’

‘Very well, Sir,’ Jarvis said and they watched as a miniaturised version of Aviana appeared among the partially transparent buildings on the facility’s grounds, easily dodging guards and security cameras, a miniature Tony following closely in her footsteps. They’d each have Jarvis in their ear, able to inform them via earpiece of any sudden changes in the movements and behaviour of the external guards whilst, inside, with direct access to the security systems, Aviana would be able to track the changing eight-digit passwords for the security doors.    

‘This is actually going to happen,’ she breathed as the simulation finished. Tony looked at her, knowing exactly how much this moment meant. She’d lost over two years of her life thanks to the dark dealings of her former bosses, had nearly lost her life altogether.

‘When this is over, I’ve been thinking…’ Tony tucked his hands into his pockets. ‘I want you to be able to start again. I want to fund your research in full and help you develop your technologies for the purpose they were intended. We need more clockwork hearts in this world – maybe not quite as excitingly wired as yours seem to be – but there are plenty of people out there who need one, and I’ve got the money to make those dreams a reality.’

‘I’m not sure, Tony.’

‘About what?’ he asked, ‘about the funding? Or about partnering with me?’

‘I don’t think it’s a good idea to get too far ahead of ourselves,’ she said, ‘but I don’t have any reservations about partnering with you.’

Their gazes locked for a moment, the words seeming to come to life between them. They both understood the potential of that sentence, the connection that was building between burning and crackling.

‘Tony Stark, billionaire philanthropist,’ she said, attempting to carry the conversation away from the suggestive sentence, a suggestion she wasn’t sure she was ready to make so overtly. With a small smirk lighting her lips, she added, ‘it has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?’

He shrugged. ‘What can I say, it’ll keep me from spending it on more art that I don’t need, which will certainly make Pepper happy.’

‘You’re an impulse buyer, aren’t you?’

‘Never,’ he said, mock offence colouring his features, ‘I mean, I’d have to have somewhere to put it all.’

She glanced around. ‘Not much room is there?’ she joked, glancing up at the high ceiling of the workshop and around the spacious room.

They chuckled together, and when a snort escaped Tony they laughed harder, so hard that Aviana’s skin sparked and crackled, startling Tony and sending her into another fit of giggles.

‘Sorry,’ she said, breathless, ‘I guess being here and not out fighting means I’ve got a lot of pent-up electricity.’

‘Even after your explosive light show last night?’

‘I don’t know, I just seem to absorb it naturally now, as if it’s drawn to my heart. When I was building it I had no idea that it would be capable of storing energy so efficiently, but I guess I’m lucky that it can,’ she said, glancing at her hand as bright sparks danced between her rings, ‘I spent a lot of time having to learn how best to control and wield these powers, and I was scared for a long time, but the fact that I have a second chance at life is something I refuse to waste, especially when I’ve been blessed with more than a second chance; a powerful one, one that still allows me to help people in a way.’

They were both products of their own inventions, their own ingenuity. The more she discussed the mechanical heart that beat within her, the design and function as she understood it upon its creation and now, the more intrigued he became. He couldn’t help but wonder what she would be able to do to his Iron Man suits with her knowledge. She would bring different perspectives, different ideas, regardless of the thousands of hours he had spent developing the suits.  

Aviana glanced to the 3D model of the facility that hung in the air. She watched as it looped through the planned entry and exit strategy. ‘Do you really think we can pull this off Tony?’ she asked, daring for the first time in two years to feel a spark of hope ignite within her. She imagined her brother at his hospital. She knew what he’d dealt with in the aftermath of her disappearance, that he’d been hounded for months until her former bosses were finally convinced he wasn’t involved. It must have been hard for him, not even knowing if she survived the healing process after performing major surgery in less than ideal conditions. She’d worried about him every day, despite having checked on him whenever she could safely do so – how much more did he worry about her, not knowing if she were alive or dead?

She shook the thoughts from her mind, glancing at the clock. Time had walked on restlessly, the pair so wrapped up in their work she hadn’t realised how late it had become; it was already mid-afternoon. It explained why she felt so restless. 

‘Let’s stop for the day. I wanted to go back up to the gym, get a few more weights in. Mind spotting for me?’

‘I guess there’s not much more we can do for the moment,’ he admitted, flinging the 3D model back to the computer, ‘not until Jarvis can run a few diagnostics on our strategy to account for as many variables as possible.’

They packed their written notes and physical files away, careful not to leave anything out where Pepper or Happy might stumble upon it. They walked up to the gym together, discussing what Aviana had learnt about the current projects, a prosthetic arm with enhanced strength and enough power to readily break bones with only the squeeze of a fist, and an eye implant which contained thermal imaging technology intended for use by snipers. Their deadliest technologies weren’t being designed for allies, but for those with the deepest pockets.

Aviana went straight to the weights. She’d gone to the gym regularly before she’d been forced into hiding, but she’d mostly focused on cardio; she’d hated doing weights in front of some of the meatheads. They would leer openly, making her uncomfortable to even train, though she’d tried her best to ignore them. Others belittled her, mocking her for her lack of strength despite the fact that she was half their size – in some cases, less. One man had even suggested that the gym buy her a pink set. The memories made her stomach churn, the anger she’d felt flaring within her as she stood before the full set laid out on a rack. She hadn’t trained with Tony before and a small part of her feared what he might say but she fought it off, and he soon demonstrated she was right to do so. He worked with her, challenged her, encouraged her to strive for her best without acting surprised that she could lift the equivalent of her body weight with ease, and even match his. 

The longer they trained, the more she noticed the way he looked at her. She could sense the heat within his gaze, could feel it searing her skin, but she no longer felt nervous even in her crop top and leggings. She felt more confident within herself than she had before, despite the scars that marred her skin, despite seeing her red eyes reflected in his gaze. 

She allowed herself to admire him as he trained with her, caught herself nibbling her lip when he lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, revealing his toned, hard abdomen; as he moved, she could see the ropes of muscle flex beneath his skin. It took all of her concentration to drag her eyes away, but even as she turned, busying herself with selecting a medicine ball to use for weighted squats, she knew he’d caught her watching.

‘Is it hot in here?’ he asked.

‘I’m feeling pretty good,’ she said as she continued her exercise, doing her best not to smile, ‘maybe you’re not quite as fit as you think?’ 

He dropped his shirt from his face, seeming to click his tongue for a moment in thought before he stripped his shirt off completely, balling it up and tossing it aside before he strode closer. Her eyes instantly wandered his way and she snapped them closed as if concentrating on her reps. Aviana had seen him on TV for years before they’d met; she knew that if there was one thing that Tony Stark was good at, it was showing off. 

And showing off he certainly was.

‘That’s better,’ he said, smirking as she dared another glance. He turned his back to her as he went to a nearby cupboard and she got her fill, ogling his broad shoulders. It had been so long since she had simply enjoyed the sight of a man. Her attraction to him, for his intellectual, emotional, and physical company, was growing with every minute she was near him, the onslaught of thoughts and temptations almost overwhelming her. She could feel how flushed her cheeks grew as she followed the drop of sweat slicing a path down the middle of his back, her body tingling at thoughts of his wicked smile and his richly calloused hands. 

She snapped her gaze back up when he turned back to her, a towel draped over his neck and another in his hand. He offered it to her and she was pleased that he didn’t seem to notice the way her fingers trembled with she reached for it. As she dabbed the sheen of sweat from her face, she could sense his gaze on her again.

‘Shall we cool off with another swim?’ he asked and she felt her stomach dip.

‘I think I might just have a shower,’ she said, noting a pinch of disappointment in his eyes before she added, ‘I’m starving. I think we’ve earned that pizza; you promised me a date after all.’

His smile instantly returned. ‘I certainly did,’ he said, starting for the door, ‘meet me in the lounge – half an hour. I’ll order the best pizza you’ve ever had and try to impress you with expensive wine.’

She smiled as she watched him leave, excited but nervous, particularly when she realised she didn’t have a damn thing to wear.

After she was sure he would have made it to his room, she sprinted up the stairs for a rushed shower, her hair still dripping wet when she went to the wardrobe where the few clothes she owned were stored. She had no skirts or dresses, no nice pants or jackets, and only one well-loved cardigan. Her selection of shoes consisted of four pairs, all of which were practical rather than pretty. 

‘Damn it,’ she breathed as she stared at the line of coat hangers. After an agonizing few minutes, she picked her best pair of jeans, a flattering singlet top, and the cardigan, hoping Tony wouldn’t notice how tired it was starting to become. She ignored the chunky heavy duty boots that she normally preferred, instead choosing a lighter and slimmer pair, glad that they seemed to work with her jeans. Finally, she dried her hair, combing it until it was glossy and deciding to leave it down. She looked at the filigree pattern of the metal that usually formed her mask and reached up, brushing her finger over it. She took a steadying breath before she let it pool into her hand, threads peeling away to form rings, the remainder sliding down her wrist to become a bangle. 

 _Instant jewellery,_ she thought before removing one of the rings to form an ear cuff that caught the light when she brushed her hair back with her fingers. 

Feeling like she at least looked presentable, she glanced at the clock, knowing that she had only a few more minutes before she should head down stairs. Was this really a date? Even if it was just a pizza and a few drinks, was she really about to be wined and dined by Tony Stark? 

 _You don’t deserve him,_ a part of her thought, doubt lingering in her mind. She closed her eyes, gritting her teeth as she dragged memories of the early hours to the forefront of her mind. She recalled vividly Tony’s gentle touch, his reassuring words as they’d floated back and forth in the pool, and the doubt faded with a whimper as she thought, _yes I do_.

She took one last deep breath to steady the last of her nerves before she stepped out into the hall, not knowing what the night would bring but excited all the same. 


	7. Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _...She was sure that, had she still had a normal heart, it would have stopped beating when he claimed her lips. His kiss was just as thrilling as it had been in the pool, soothing her soul and igniting her passions all at once in a surge of emotions. She could tell he was being gentle with her; even as he drew her closer, hand pressing against the small of her back, he reined in his strength, but his desire was revealed by the urgency of his kiss. She caught herself wondering, imagining…_

* * *

**Chapter Seven  
** **Names**

Aviana walked tentatively into the lounge, stomach fluttering with barely restrained nerves. She could barely remember the last date she had been on, although she had no doubts it was one of her failed attempts at a relationship which wasn’t casual. None of those had gone particularly well, both her and her partners were so focused on their work.

From her vantage point just outside of the lounge, she could see Tony gathering wine glasses before he pursued a selection of bottles. He stood before them for a moment, his back to her. She took a moment to sweep her eyes over him, pleased to see how his shoulders stretched the crisp crimson shirt, his hips hugged tightly by neat pants. Even though he seemed at ease no matter what he wore, her feeling of being underdressed intensified, and she was gripped by the sudden urge to turn tail and run.

 _No._ _No, you’re fine. Considering how limited your wardrobe is, you look good. Just walk in there and smile_ , she thought as she stepped into the lounge, hoping he’d be so focused on her face he wouldn’t notice how scuffed her boots were and how faded her cardigan was.

He turned to face her the moment he heard her footsteps, and she was relieved to see a smile lighting his lips. He brandished the bottle, a devious glint in his eyes as he said, ‘I thought we might skip straight to the wine.’

She mustered her brightest smile, some of the fluttering in her stomach easing. ‘And what are we having tonight?’

‘A Cabernet Sauvignon from a lovely little vineyard in the Bordeaux region,’ he said, presenting the bottle to her as he picked a bottle opener from the top of the rack.

Aviana accepted it, feeling for a moment like she held liquid gold in her hands. ‘The last glass of wine drank cost five dollars from a shady corner store I passed on my way home from my mechanic’s workshop,’ she said, feeling her mouth water at the very thought of tasting such a fine vintage. ‘Let’s just say it was… unpleasant.’ 

She sat on the couch and Tony followed, placing the glasses on the low table. As he leant forward to uncork the bottle, his leg brushed against hers. It seemed such a small thing, but she revelled in the casual contact.

‘We better make the most of this bottle, drown out that experience,’ he said as he cupped the large glass in his hand, pouring a taste for her.

Aviana took the glass, anticipation heightening as she swirled it gently. She inhaled the rich aroma, noting fruits and spices, allowing it to distract her from the sensation of his leg against her knee, the heat of his skin seeping through her jeans.    

‘If it tastes even half as good as it smells, I’m going to be in heaven,’ she said, eyes sliding closed as she enjoyed her first sip. She hummed a pleased little note. ‘Oh yes, that’s a little piece of heaven right there.’

‘Just wait until the pizza arrives.’

Tony poured a glass for himself, leaning into the plush couch. He placed his arm along the back, his legs crossed loosely before him, the picture of contentment. He held her gaze and she watched emotions dance within his dark eyes – anticipation, and maybe the same hint of nervousness that she felt – before she allowed herself to settle back against his arm.

He traced her features with his gaze. ‘No mask. No contacts,’ he said, a warm smile creeping over his lips. ‘Just you.’

He placed his glass on the table. ‘I guess I was used to the anonymity it provided. The mask is a safety net; it’s hard for someone to recognise you if they can’t see your face.’

‘I’ve never been good at anonymous.’ He shrugged, no doubt referring to his very public announcement of ‘I am Iron Man.

‘Well, as good as I am at it, I don’t want to be anymore, not here. When you said my name… I’m sorry I got so angry with you, but I hadn’t heard anyone say it for two years.’ She stared into her glass, watching as the liquid swirled with the slightest shake of her hands. ‘Pepper and Happy might drop in on occasion, but mostly we’re alone, and I feel safe here… with you. I’m a very different person to who I used to be, and Aviana will always be a part of me, but I guess I… I want to be Danielle again.’

Tony reached up to catch a flyaway strand of her hair. He held her gaze captive as he tucked it behind her ear, fingertips lingering on her cheek. ‘I’m lucky to know the woman you’ve become,’ he said, a smile turning his lips as he leant closer. ‘It’s nice to finally meet you, Danielle Brooker.’

She was sure that, had she still had a normal heart, it would have stopped beating when he claimed her lips. His kiss was just as thrilling as it had been in the pool, soothing her soul and igniting her passions all at once in a surge of emotions. She could tell he was being gentle with her; even as he drew her closer, hand pressing against the small of her back, he reined in his strength, but his desire was revealed by the urgency of his kiss. She caught herself wondering, imagining…

They barely noticed the chime of the door, they were so focused on the other. Tony only managed to – reluctantly – drag himself away from her lips when a voice called over the intercom, announcing their dinner’s arrival.

He bit back a sigh when he met her gaze, her eyes bright as fire in the soft light of the lounge. ‘I’ll be right back,’ he whispered, his voice almost as breathless as she felt. He stole one last kiss before he rose from the couch and strode toward the entry hall. 

She watched him retreat past a wall before she settled further into the couch, releasing a contented sigh as she brushed her fingers over her lips. Although he was gentle now, she had the distinct feeling that he would not be the type to hold his passions back in the bedroom. Her cheeks instantly flushed brighter at the thought, but she allowed her imagination to explore the tantalising possibilities until she heard his footsteps coming back toward the lounge and the scent of pizza teased her senses, her stomach growling. 

‘I hope you’re hungry. I couldn’t decide what to get so I ordered some options,’ he said as he placed the boxes on the table, careful to dodge the wine. He topped up their glasses and flicked the lids off the boxes, heat radiating from the delicious array of pizzas.

‘I’m feeling very spoilt right now,’ she admitted as she selected a piece of the supreme, nibbling the cheesy tip and savouring each bite. He smiled at her as he bit into his own slice. They each ate their fill, enjoying the view from the lounge. They steered away from conversation about the past, the APRDC, and the clockwork heart. Instead, they focused on what they liked: television shows, movies, hobbies, and music. It was easy conversation, not because of the topics, but because of the company. Although Danielle still wanted to retain some secrets, she felt she could talk freely with Tony, and Tony talked freely with her. 

After an hour of lounging on the couch and whilst halfway through their third glass of wine, their conversation turned to a contest: what was the best music to dance to. Tony, refusing to yield, hopped up from the couch and strode to the corner of the room.

‘Just you wait,’ he said confidently, and she heard him scrolling through a playlist. Soon, Music filled the room and he walked back to her, steps evolving into dance. He played up the moves until she had to put her glass down, lest she lose a mouthful of wine laughing.

He edged closer, holding out his hand. ‘Would you honour me with a dance?’ he asked, wiggling his eyebrows for the briefest moment. ‘That is if you can handle such a majestic being.’

It was a challenge, one she knew she couldn’t resist. She slipped her hand into his, barely stifling a gasp as he pulled her tight against his chest. He wrapped an arm tightly around her waist, his other hand grasping hers to pull it to his chest as he began to move with her. He led her through each step, taking them across the room. He dropped her into a dramatic dip, her laughter caressing his ears until it was all he could hear, and when he pulled her up she willingly accepted his tight embrace. As the song changed, she tucked her head against his neck. His arm tightened around her; they were so close she could feel the hard lines of his body, feel how they fit so perfectly against hers, his lips brushing her ear. A shiver danced down her spine when his hand flattened on her lower back, urging her impossibly closer as his lips trailed to her neck. She bit her lip, another shiver darting down her spine as he lingered there, the heat of his breath caressing her skin. Danielle knew Tony’s reputation with women, knew that he intended to seduce her. 

Knew that her body was keenly anticipating his seduction.

 _Would I be another one night stand?_ The thought drifted through her mind before she could catch it, _am I even worth more than that?_

Anxiety tried to drown her in doubt, but she grit her teeth against her darkest emotions. She was a fighter. She would always be a fighter. 

 _Of course, I am worth more,_ she thought as she lifted her eyes to his. Without another thought, she reached to tangle her fingers in the short, soft strands on the back of his head. She drew his lips to hers, desire flaring through her when he readily accepted her advance, both hands dropping to meld her tighter against him. Electricity sparked over her skin, the passion she felt igniting in physical form.

‘I guess I’m not the only one feeling a spark,’ he whispered against her lips. He closed his eyes, taking a moment to catch his breath before he said, ‘Listen, Danielle…’ His voice was rough with the desire that she saw reflected in his eyes. ‘You’re bound to be aware of my past with women and–’

‘I’m no angel, Tony. My colleagues, myself included, we were married to our work. We didn’t have time for a serious relationship between the endless hours of research, so a friends-with-benefits arrangement was pretty normal for me.’

‘But that’s not what I’m trying to say,’ he said. He pursed his lips as he tried to find the right words. ‘I’ve always picked the women I have because I knew that they weren’t interested in a commitment, because it was easy, but I feel _normal_ with you. I don’t have to constantly watch what I say or do for fear that you will run off and tell a reporter about your night with Tony Stark, and not because you have to hide for your own safety. To you I’m not a famous conquest, I’m just a man, and I want you for more than a night, but I’m… I’m actually nervous about being with you. I’ve never felt that with someone before.’

They’d stopped moving completely. Danielle caught his face in her hands, tracing slow patterns along his bearded jaw until he met her gaze. ‘Why are you nervous?’

‘What if I’m not as good as I’ve always been told I am? What if we do take this next step and you wake up in the morning wishing you hadn’t let me touch you because I was… lacking?’

For the first time in the weeks they’d been together, he looked… scared. ‘Oh, Tony,’ she said, ‘we both know sex can be exciting when there are no attachments, but you must know I’m not just looking to get laid. I want the intimacy that I’ve spent so many years craving, the connection I can already feel with you.’ She trailed her hand down his neck, his chest. ‘And you’re right: you are just a man to me. You’re the man I want, the man I want to be with no matter where life takes us.’

It was all the reassurance Tony needed. He stole a searing kiss and she eagerly accepted to his claim, his hold tightening on her hips. He was struggling to keep his strength in check; had she the breath, she would have demanded every ounce of passion he possessed. She wanted – needed – to claim him for her own and be claimed in return, to leave marks on his skin like a brand.

Tony broke away reluctantly, taking her hand. He led her through the house as far as he could manage, but before long he found his back against a wall. His breath whooshed from his lungs at the impact, her hands falling upon him eagerly. Her touch sparked with electricity as she dragged his shirt from the waistband of his pants with a hard tug, delicate, calloused fingers delving beneath the silken fabric to caress the hard plains of his stomach. Her gaze dropped as she popped the lowest button. He used her distraction to his advantage, turning her bodily, hands sliding to her thighs. He gripped tight, a thrilling gasp escaping her lips as their bodies met, fingers biting into his shoulders as he pinned her against the wall. 

A rip sounded, buttons bouncing with a faint _tink_ as they hit the floor, and then her hands found his chest. She pushed the sides of his shirt aside, the cold rings on his fingers adding to the tantalising sensations. Her eyes were alight, the red glowing in the shadowy hallway as she surveyed every inch of the skin she revealed. She intended to strip him, to explore every inch; the knowledge made shivers dance down along his spine, blood rushing in his veins as images bombarded him. He’d always been dominant in bed – she would challenge him. 

Tony couldn’t wait any longer. He released Danielle’s thighs and she landed on steady feed. She slipped a finger beneath the waistband of his pants, holding his gaze as she led him through the mansion. He shook his shirt from his arms the moment they reached the bedroom, throwing it carelessly aside, his attention locked on her as her cardigan fell from her shoulders. She reached for the hem of her singlet top, lifting it slowly, revealing her toned stomach inch by slow inch until she stripped it completely. He was riveted on every movement as her hands slid down her sides, fingertips tracing the top hem of her jeans. When she popped the button he _throbbed_ , the ache down south rapidly becoming unbearable. He closed the distance between them in two long strides, pushing her back against the massive when her calves hit the edge. He placed one knee beside her knee, pushing her hand aside. He grasped her wrist, pinning it against the mattress as he bent to press his lips to the soft skin of her stomach. He kissed the scar – still pink and puckered – before he dropped his head lower, taking the zip in his teeth. 

She trembled as he grasped the hem, stripping the denim from her skin, his breath ragged as he stared down at her wicked curves and athletic legs. His gaze darted up, her chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. It mattered not that she wore utilitarian undergarments; she was the gift inside them.  

He settled above her and she gasped against his lips when their heated skin met, her hands trailing to his hips. Her fingernails dug into his flesh, urging on every lash of his tongue against hers, and he rocked against her. A moan spilt from her, and he eagerly devoured the sound, her eagerness growing as he pressed against her, her hands travelled between them. She made short work of the button and zip and dipped her hands beneath the waistband, a satisfied glint in her eyes as she groped the firm cheeks of his arse, dragging him closer. Sparks and sensations danced between them, a harsh sound escaping his lips as she used her new leverage to twist her hips, cradling him with the movement. He was forced to pin her hips to the bed, his body almost too eager. Yet she still held the upper hand, so to speak, and she pushed his pants down his thighs, forcing him to hastily kick them off. Partially freed of his weight, she grasped his arm and hooked her leg around his knee, rolling him beneath her so she straddled his waist.

Danielle trailed her hands down his chest, tracing the line of coarse hair that dipped below his boxers. But her hands continued along his hips until she reached her thighs and up. She unclipped her bra, slipping it from her shoulders, and he felt another desperate throb when she led his hands to her breasts. She trembled beneath his touch as he teased rosy nipples at her urging, her hands cupping his to show him how she liked to be touched, her body rocking against him. He wondered what he’d done to deserve such a creature – she was passion incarnate, and for at least this night, she was his. 

She slid down his body, dropping to her knees beside the bed before she stripped his tight boxers. His erection stood proudly, eagerly awaiting her attention, and a ragged moan escaped him as she stroked his shaft, the combination of the cold metal of her rings and her heated skin sending pleasure spiralling through him. When she traced her tongue over the tip his eyes shot open, his back arching as she tasted him, the sensation of her hands and mouth almost unbearable. She seemed content to enjoy him a while longer, but the rising pressure forced him to coax her back his arms for fear that their night would end earlier than intended.

Tony threw Danielle on her back, all signs of restraint gone as his fingers delved between fine curls and slick folds to tease the centre of her need. Her legs fell wide as he caressed the tight bud that begged for his attention, coffee-coloured eyes almost black with desire as he watched her writhe beneath his touch, and he relished the thought that he was the first man to pleasure her for over two years. When her breathing became heavy, her hips rocking against his hand eagerly, he reached for the bedside table and found the closest packet. He tore the corner with his teeth as he pressed a finger into her tight, hot core, stroking deep a few times before he had to focus on his other task. He rolled the condom down his shaft as quickly as his trembling hands could manage before he settled over her. When the tip of his cock slid between the folds she held tight, nails digging into his arse as she positioned him. 

He wrapped his arm beneath her waist, desperate to be closer to her, to feel her skin against his as he pressed deeper, a breathless moan tumbling from her lips as he ground against her. She reached for the metal bedhead, clinging to it as the sensations wracked her body, using it as an earth to release the energy that sparked from her skin at the growing onslaught of pleasure. The room lit up with the sparks that danced around them. Tony heard something shatter nearby, but he didn’t care to look at what had been hit by a stray bolt. He was lost within her embrace and her passion, could sense that she was nearing her climax as the room began to glow. He thought he should feel the sparks, that they should hurt him as they danced between them, but he felt only a desperate need to experience every moment of their pleasure, to hear his name on her lips as she reached the edge.

He gripped the nape of her neck, forcing her gaze to his. Danielle’s eyes burned like fire as light radiated from her, her back arching as she tumbled over the edge. Another stray bolt hit the window, but the shatter was drowned out by the sound of her cry, his name wrenched from her lips at the intensity of the pleasure that burned through her. He couldn’t hold back, his own cry sounding with the echo of hers as he joined her in ecstasy, his back arching as he thrust deep.  

Tony collapsed sideways, chest heaving, his body slick with sweat. It took all his strength to pull himself away from her, even for only a moment as he stripped the condom and hastily clean up before he fell back into her arms. He pulled her thigh over his hip, his hand resting on it, tracing soft patterns over her skin. He stole her lips in a languid kiss, each of them savouring their passion.

Her eyes still glowed with desire, but she wore a sated smile. ‘I think I broke your house a little,’ she said between kisses.

He chuckled. ‘I don’t care,’ he said, despite the distinct breeze that drifted over his exposed arse. ‘I’d have you break a thousand windows before I traded a second of what we just shared.’

He pulled her tight against his chest as he reached to pull the covers over them, and when he settled back down with her, her breath fell softly against his skin, quickly synchronising with his own. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and they soon drifted off together. 


	8. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _...‘Pepper–’_
> 
> _‘What happened?’ she repeated, pointing at the window. She was mentally preparing a long, stern talk about where it was appropriate to land the Iron Man suit – the suspected cause of the carnage – and why his bedroom was off limits until she noticed the distinctly feminine arm wrapped around his stomach... ___

* * *

**Chapter Eight  
****Preparation**  

Tony didn’t wake to the sound of heeled footsteps clicking on the hardwood flooring in the hallway just before lunchtime or to the firm knock on the partially open door to his bedroom. He didn’t wake to the soft squeak of the hinges or to Danielle stirring against his side as the morning light began to fall across her back.

He woke to Pepper Potts’ short, sharp scream.

Tony sat bolt upright, a volley of thoughts assailing him, but one charged to the forefront of his mind: _protect Danielle_.

In his dazed, newly awoken state it took him a moment to realise who was standing in the doorway. He dropped his fists, relaxing his pose and taking a slow, deliberate breath. It didn’t stop his heart from racing, adrenaline still pumping through his veins at the sudden awakening. Thankfully, he had some time to settle his nerves. Pepper’s gaze was focused on the window and the shattered glass strewn across the floor, giving him enough time to compose himself and to stop Danielle from sitting up.

‘Pepper?’ he said. Danielle stiffened beside him at the name. He laid his hand over hers – it was still resting on his stomach – and squeezed gently to reassure her, leaning sideways just enough so he would block her face from view should Pepper glance their way. She tucked herself behind him, cheek pressed against his back, shallow breaths falling on his skin.

‘Tony what… what happened?’ Pepper asked when she finally pulled her hands away from her mouth. She took a few more steps into the room, wondering absently why there wasn’t more glass on the floor, why it appeared that they’d shattered _outward_. She was so focused on the destruction that she didn’t even glance towards Tony until he coughed politely. Her gaze drifted over and he cleared his throat, nodding his head toward the door. Pepper wasn’t sure what the issue was – she’d seen him without a shirt before, and Tony wasn’t exactly shy.

‘Pepper–’

‘What _happened_?’ she repeated, pointing at the window. She was mentally preparing a long, stern talk about where it was appropriate to land the Iron Man suit – the suspected cause of the carnage – and why his bedroom was off limits until she noticed the distinctly feminine arm wrapped around his stomach.

‘Oh.’ She muttered, followed by a much more surprised, high pitched, ‘oh my god!’ as the sight knocked aside any thought of reprimand. She spun around, ears turning scarlet. ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you had company! I’ll– I’ll wait in the kitchen.’

Pepper hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her, the echo of her steps quickly fading. Tony released a sigh, though he couldn’t help the sly smirk that tugged at his lips. It took a lot to fluster her like that.

‘I better go out there. She wouldn’t have come found me in here if it wasn’t important,’ he said, moving to rise from the bed. He’d only managed to throw the covers aside and turn towards the edge of the bed when Danielle grabbed his arm, holding him in place. He glanced over his shoulder, finding her eyes were downcast.

‘You didn’t let her see me,’ she whispered, ‘even though it would have been easy to.’

He turned to face her; she clutched the covers to her chest with her free hand – a shield in place of her mask. ‘It’s not my place to take away the anonymity you value, that has kept you alive, no matter how high of an opinion I have of Pepper,’ he said, ‘I should have respected that the other day instead of being upset with you for hiding… I shouldn’t have swept aside your very valid reason for being afraid of being recognised just because it might have dented my ego a little at the time.’ He cupped her jaw, tracing her cheek with his thumb as he lifted her gaze. ‘I’ve earned your trust. I won’t throw that away.’

She worried her lip for a moment, something clearly weighing on her mind. After a few moments, she finally asked, ‘would you trust Pepper with your life?’

‘Yes,’ he said without missing a beat. He placed her hand over the arc reactor in his chest. ‘I have in the past, and I’m still alive because of that trust.’ He held her gaze, letting her see the truth in the words before he pressed a kiss to her hand and drew away. Much as he wished to remain, to take her into his arms, it wasn’t his reassurance she needed. So he rose from the bed, leaving her to her thoughts as he dressed.

Little did he know just how much her thoughts were churning. Logically Danielle knew she could trust Pepper, but avoiding recognition had become an instinct. Even considering facing Tony without her mask had terrified her; a vicious, consuming anxiety had bloomed in her gut as it did now. But she also remembered the utter relief she had felt when his eyes had fallen on her. Even knowing what she looked like, he’d traced her features as if seeing them for the first time, savouring the trust that she gave. She had trusted Tony in her most vulnerable state, just as he had trusted Pepper in his.  

Danielle combed her hair with her fingers and pulled it into a bun, one of her rings rolling from her fingers to secure it as she forced a deep, calming breath into her lungs. She swung her legs over the edge of the mattress, glancing down to check for glass before she touched the floor; thankfully, it seemed most of the shards had gone out the window, none of them reaching the bed.

‘I think I have some explaining to do,’ she said as she began to dress quickly, dragging on her clothes from the night before.

Tony stopped halfway through pulling on a shirt, arms tangled in the fabric. ‘What?’

‘You’ve said before that Pepper can help us,’ she said, ‘and I’m ready to ask for that help. I’m… I’m ready to meet her.’

Tony detangled himself, dragging the shirt on properly as he stepped closer. ‘If this is just because of what I said the other day–’

‘No. No, Tony. I understand why you were upset; Pepper is one of your closest friends. I just wasn’t ready.’ She stepped closer, meeting his gaze. ‘It was scary enough opening up to you despite how desperately I wanted to, and you already knew my identity. But as much as the thought of showing myself to Pepper unsettles the part of me that wants to stay anonymous, you’re right – we need someone watching our backs, and not just Jarvis. Knowing how much you trust her… that someone should be Pepper.’ 

He held out his hand to her. ‘Then we go out there together.’

She twined her fingers with his, his calloused palm an anchor to her resolve. ‘Together,’ she echoed, and he led them out the door.

They made a quick stop at Danielle’s room so she could make herself presentable before they made their way downstairs. The wine glasses from the night before were still sitting on the table in the lounge, the unfinished bottle standing without a stopper, a reminder of the passionate night they’d shared. As they got closer they could hear a bustle of movement in the kitchen, the sound of cupboards and draws being opened and closed in quick succession echoing through the house almost as if someone were…

‘Pepper, are you tidying up?’

She stopped dead, one arm still raised to return a glass to the cupboard from the dishwasher, an oddly guilty look on her face. ‘I didn’t know how long you were going to be so I made a call to get the windows in your bedroom fixed today,’ she said as she slid the glass into place and closed the door, ‘and I know that the trash has to go out tonight, so I just thought that–’

‘Pepper, taking care of me isn’t your job anymore.’

‘I know.’ She bit her lip, waving her hands awkwardly for a moment before she settled them at her sides. She glanced away from him. ‘I just…’ Her words trailed off when her gaze locked onto Danielle, her explanation fleeing from her mind as she tried to come to terms with the sight before her. Recognition flashed across her face, her jaw dropping slightly. A tense silence fell, seeming to thicken the air around them. Danielle was instantly relieved that she’d put her contacts back in; it was hard enough for Pepper to see a ghost and come to terms with it without adding the unnecessary shock of her changed appearance. Tony squeezed Danielle’s hand, his grip keeping her in place while Pepper regained her composure.

‘So,’ Pepper said, finally breaking the long silence and managing to be significantly more composed than Danielle would expect most people to be, ‘you’re not… dead, Miss Brooker. I’m glad. Your work was– is inspirational.’

Danielle’s stomach dropped like a stone, the words a reminder of all her work could have done. Pepper had no idea how _inspirational_ the APRDC found her creations.

‘Thank you,’ she managed, though her voice was tight, ‘Tony says that I can trust you, and as you have been a close friend of his for so long I am willing to believe him. Unfortunately, my work was not used as intended.’ _There’s no point sugar coating it,_ she thought before she added, ‘when I found out what was being done to my research, the higher-ups tried to silence me by destroying part of the facility. When they realised that they’d failed they listed me among the casualties and I’ve been forced to play dead ever since.’

Pepper looked stunned, colour draining from her face, her knuckles turning white as she twisted her hands together. She glanced at Tony and he nodded, confirming her explanation. Pepper dropped her hands to her sides. ‘The explosion was all over the news. How did you even survive?’

‘My own prosthetic heart.’

‘And your power…it comes from that? Like Tony can power the Iron Man suit with the arc reactor in his chest?’

Danielle nodded. ‘An unintended side-effect, one that has proven to be useful despite how unusual it is. I’d only just developed it when I confronted my old bosses; if they’d known of its existence they’d have made use of it for sure. They’ve been weaponising my prosthetics and selling them to the highest bidder, for they’ve gotten away with it for almost four years.’

‘That’s why you asked me to recall all the tech they’ve purchased from us in the past, because of their illegal deals like… like Obadiah,’ Pepper said to Tony, receiving a terse nod. It wasn’t a topic they liked to dwell on. ‘That’s why I came over here,’ she continued, ‘to get the explanation you promised.’

‘But you did issue the recall, right?’

‘Of course, as soon as I got back to their office. I’ve spent most of my time ever since trying to keep their lawyers at bay. They’re getting increasingly hostile, demanding we return the items even though I provided fair compensation.’

Tony glanced at Danielle; he’d planned to tell her that the guards were equipped with Stark tech, but with everything that had happened since they’d infiltrated the facility, it had completely slipped his mind. She caught on to his train of thought, pressing closer to his side. ‘Stark Industries is a big company. You wouldn’t be able to keep track of even a fraction of the business deals made every day, nor did you even know about what the APRDC was doing until I showed you.’ She returned her attention to Pepper. ‘The fact that they’ve lost some of their tech will weaken their security, and they’re most likely relying on inferior gear. It will give us the window we need to expose them.’

‘I… but how? You can’t just walk into their facilities. Their security systems are top of the line.’

‘We're not trying to go in the front door. We’ve infiltrated the site before, have been keeping tabs on them. We have everything we need to bring them down. I’ve waited for two years. I’m done playing dead.’

Pepper was startled by the violence that filled Danielle’s gaze but did not move back, a determination radiating from her. ‘What can I do?’

‘Keep stalling them for as long as you can. Something as big as an inter-company throw down like that will keep most of the upper administration occupied,’ Tony said, ‘draw the attention of the CEOs, deputies – all of the higher-ups – as much as you can. Conference call them, discuss business and contracts, anything that takes up a lot of time.’

‘I can certainly do that. I’ll do a little digging from our end as well,’ Pepper said, ‘see if I can find out what exactly we have been collaborating with them on these last few years. Chances are there are a few projects. It might help.’

‘Just be sure not to leave any traces. Do it only from the records you can access through Stark Industries,’ Danielle said, ‘they are careful, fearful of exposure despite their power and safeguards. And they should be.’

Tony glanced at her, her eyes alight with fire. It was time. ‘I think we need to go have a friendly chat with the APRDC, don’t you?’ 

* * *

Pepper had handled herself well despite the volley of information which had been dumped on her, and she sprang into action with Danielle and Tony. Together, they spent the afternoon gathering and organised all of the files Danielle and Tony had collected on the APRDC, boxing the physical copies to take to a secure Stark Industries location and encrypting the digital copies on a hard drive so that Pepper could take them to her office for safe keeping. With Tony’s workshop returned to normal and all of the boxes packed into Pepper’s car, the three stood in the dim entrance hall as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows through the orange hues that flooded the mansion.

Pepper pulled Tony into a hug. ‘Be careful and come back in one piece,’ she said, squeezing him tightly. She released him reluctantly before she turned to Danielle; she was clearly unprepared to say goodbye knowing the danger they were about to walk into. ‘I look forward to seeing you again, Miss Brooker,’ she said, voice tight, ‘and in happier circumstances.’

‘And you, Miss Potts,’ Danielle said, inclining her head.

As Pepper’s steps faded, the door latching behind her, Danielle and Tony retreated back into the house to prepare. Danielle went back to her room, dressing quickly in well-worn leather pants and a dark sleeved shirt before she donned a fitted leather jacket. She checked the sleeves, finding an extensive supply of nails and stars still tucked within. She then opted for the outward-steel capped boots that were often useful in a heavy fight. As she rose from the bed after lacing them tight, she tied her thick hair back in a ponytail, plaiting the length to keep it well out of her way. 

She stared at her reflection in the tall mirror as she dropped her hands at her side. A brown gaze stared back and for the first time, it felt odd not to be greeted by the vibrant red. She hadn’t worn her contacts for well over 24 hours before this morning – because of Tony. He wasn’t disgusted by the red that seemed to bleed from her irises and into her sclera like burst veins. He’d said her eyes were beautiful. 

She felt a smile break her lips but knew she could not dwell on the thoughts, not now.

_It’s almost over_.

The extra rings on her fingers and the bracelets around her wrists rolled up her arms and over her shoulders, the sensation chilling her skin as the metal slid up her neck and seeped over her face to conceal her features. Although she would not allow herself to get her hopes up she could not help but wish that tonight would be her last behind the shining, faceless mask. 

She walked back down to the workshop to meet Tony but found it empty. Hoping he wouldn’t mind if she _borrowed_ some of the furniture, she found the nearest empty table and grasped the top of it. Strips rolled up her skin, coating her chest, back, and sides in an intricate network of armour beneath her shirt. 

Tony appeared from somewhere deeper within the workshop. He was wearing only a fitted body suit obviously intended to be worn under the Iron Man suit. He quirked an eyebrow at her and the partially deconstructed table, but apparently decided not to argue.

‘Time to go?’ he asked. She nodded as he walked to a clear area on the floor. He stood still and the level began to break up around his feet, a series of mechanical hisses and clunks sounding as it segmented. She’d never seen how Tony put on the suit; they’d been so focused on their research, he’d only been out as Iron Man a handful of times while Danielle slept. She was fascinated to finally see the process, watching raptly as robotic limbs emerged from below the workshop floor. The sections of the suit came together smoothly, each interlocking seamlessly with the next until only his head remained uncovered. As the helmet began to form he grinned, winking at her before the faceplate was secured. Then the workshop floor sealed again, the seams of each hidden section so smooth she believed that, had she not been wearing her contacts, she wouldn’t have been able to see them at all.

‘Just wait until you see me take it off,’ Tony said, his voice and the following chuckle distorted by the suit. His footsteps clanked on the floor as he approached, rolling his shoulders to test the joints as Jarvis booted up all systems. Tony stood taller than Danielle normally, but in the suit he towered over her; she almost had to crane her neck to look up at his masked face as he asked, ‘ready?’

‘It’s time,’ she said, reaching for him. Even knowing he wouldn’t feel the caress, she traced her fingers over the top plate of his forearm. ‘Be careful,’ she said before she cupped the sides of the helmet, pulling him down to press her masked forehead gently against his, the metals singing at the touch.

He inhaled; she could hear the breath echo in the suit, as if he could savour her through the barrier that separated them. ‘You too.’

He wrapped his arms around her, holding as tight as he dared, wishing he’d thought to do so before he’d suited up but knowing it was too late to have any regrets as she looped her arms around his neck, their legs twining together before he launched himself through the open ceiling and into the night. 


	9. Infiltration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _...Tony didn’t look back to assess the damage. He shoved Danielle through the door the moment it slid open, following her through and hitting the close button. They sprinted back along the corridor, Danielle turning as they reached the enclosed bridge. Tony nearly barrelled into her as she stopped, but he soon realised why her focus had returned to the lab as an ear piercing screech of metal followed them down the hallway. Alarms roared to life as a figure stepped through the gap, the dull security lights only half-illuminating its frame. All they knew was that it – whatever_ it _was – stood taller than Tony in the Iron Man suit, its body glistening with metal..._

* * *

**Chapter Nine  
** **Infiltration**

Within the hour, they were approaching the APRDC complex, circling in the cover of darkness before Tony touched down as gently as he could on the roof of one of the least patrolled buildings. This time felt different than before when they’d skirted along the edges. This was far riskier, despite their intense preparation, but should they succeed, the rewards would be worth it.

They crouched low beside the stairwell, almost statuesque as Tony waited for Jarvis’ cue to enter the building; the AI would be providing carefully timed instructions for their infiltration, as well as monitoring the guards via the camera feeds.

Danielle looked up at Tony’s side profile, his face hidden behind the Iron Man mask as adrenaline began to course through her. A knot coiled tight in her gut, her nerves ramping up at the reality of the situation. She forced herself to focus elsewhere, imagining his face behind the mask – his richly coloured eyes, his soft lips that lit so naturally in a smile – and she felt a calm ease over her, the image an anchor. 

_I can do this,_ she thought, a grim determination welling within her _, I_ have _to do this._

She laid her hand on his arm, the metal cool beneath her touch from altitude at which they’d flown. As quickly as she could manage, she sent a current through her fingertips to carve a pattern into the arm. Even if she did not make it through the night, through the dangerous task they were about to undertake, maybe he would know how much he meant to her.

Tony was too focused on counting out the seconds with Jarvis to notice her touch. He tapped his fingers on the ground twice, signalling to Danielle.

_Soon_.

The seconds ticked by, simultaneously painfully slow and terrifyingly fast, and as he counted down the last few moments they edged toward the door. The hinges issuing a feeble squeak as they tugged it open and Danielle descended the stairs, light footsteps making hardly a sound. Tony was louder – one could only be so quiet with metal feet – but with Jarvis tapped into the video feeds and with prior knowledge of the guards’ routines, they knew they had exactly two minutes and thirty-eight seconds to get down two flights of stairs. As long as they stayed in that window, they’d be able to cross the covered bridge to the next building in the complex completely unnoticed.

‘Jarvis,’ Tony whispered, ‘how is the loop-feed coming along.’

‘Well, Sir. It’s uploading now.’

They paused at the entrance to the bridge that would lead them to the main research building. Danielle glanced back, waiting for Tony’s signal before she darted across. She peered down the corridor – left, right – and without looking back she signalled for Tony to follow as quietly as the heavy suit allowed. 

After Jarvis had assured Tony that the loop feeds were in place, they turned the corner at the end of the bridge. Danielle moved quickly, but her feet became heavier with every step as they approached the main lab’s security doors. That sickening knot in her stomach clenched tighter again, sickness flaring in her gut with the potent memories that flickered in her mind. She shook herself mentally, refusing to let herself get lost within her wrath, her fear, but she could not stop her hands from shaking as she reached into her pocket for one of Tony’s handheld devices. She plugged it into the base of the security pad, watching with bated breath as it started to decrypt the password.  

She glanced down the hallway. She had dreamt over and over about reaching this door. She knew they still had plenty of time before the guard came back through the level, but fear trickled into the back of her mind like drops of ice-cold water. She suppressed a sigh of relief when the final digits of the password slotted into place. She quickly detached the handheld and slipped it back into her pocket as the doors slid open, and they entered the darkened lab, the room automatically sealing them in.

‘We’ve got seven minutes before they notice that someone has opened the lab,’ Tony said, glancing down at Danielle before lighting the room with his suit, ‘we’ve already got the documents at home, ready to be released. It’s time to get something really damning.’

She nodded, saying, ‘I hope you can take photos.’

‘Photos? I’m filming everything,’ he said, making sure to look around in every direction as they moved deeper into the long room with slow, deliberate steps. Jarvis documented each item they discovered, matching them up with the files he’d downloaded from the servers. Tony could see how each one affected Danielle, her shoulders drawn up, her fists clenched at her side as she stopped next to a table. A prosthetic arm lay in pieces atop the pristine metal surface, a spring-loaded blade protruding from the elbow. Heavy plates lined the knuckles, clearly designed to generate a more devastating blow. She wanted desperately to destroy it, to destroy everything in the lab, but she didn’t dare touch anything lest she leave fingerprints or accidentally activate the hidden gun that was tucked in the forearm of the weapon. 

_Weapon…_ the word drifted through her mind, _that’s all my work is now. A weapon…_ Her knuckles paled at the strain of her clenched fists, her fingernails leaving crescents on her palm as small sparks began to ignite on her skin. She turned away, moving swiftly through the rest of the lab, determined to document each item, to annihilate the APRDC with the weight of the evidence they’d gathered.

‘Four minutes,’ Tony said as they neared the end of the lab where four large sealed canisters stood against the wall beside a curtained section. ‘What are they? Do they hold prosthetics?’ he asked. He reached the end of the lab first and scanned each of the labels that adorned the heavy canisters, but Danielle already knew exactly what each contained.

‘Gas,’ she whispered, tears finally welling in her eyes. She recognised the coding on the labels, her breath shuddering in her lungs, her chest constricting at the sight. She clutched at the raised scars on her ribs, a phantom heart attack searing through her as the memories took hold of her mind. 

Tony reached for her, grasping her shoulders. ‘Danielle,’ he said, turning her gently, ‘Danielle, I can’t lose you now. The only way this happens is if we get out of here. Now. We’ve got the evidence we need.’

She stared into the eyes of the mask, nodding vacantly. She focused on him, picturing his face again as she tried to regain control of her thoughts. ‘No, no. We need to see everything in this lab.’ She shook him off, taking a step towards the curtained section of the room.

‘There’s no time,’ he said, grasping her arm again before she could reach the curtains. ‘We’ve got enough evidence without looking in there or in the minor labs.’

She thought about fighting his grip, of ripping aside the curtains, but the logical part of her mind knew he was right; between the files they’d been collecting and the footage they now had, there was plenty of evidence to take down the APRDC as long as they were careful about how they released it. And they were running out of time. _Two minutes,_ she thought as she strode quickly toward the door, _two minutes to get over the bridge and up to the roof, just as we planned. If we’re caught in the facility, my old bosses will find a way to bury me for good, and they’ll bury Tony too._

She turned sharply and started marching back towards the lab’s doors. Tony felt relief for the briefest moment – until Danielle stopped dead in her tracks hallway back to the exit. She turned to look back at the curtained section, her body rigid as she stared at the white fabric. In the shadows cast by the lights on Tony’s suit, it appeared to move, and the thought sent a chill sprinting down her spine.

‘What is it?’ Tony asked, looking back too.

She watched for a moment, but the curtains hung as limply as before. ‘Nothing,’ she finally muttered, turning back to the door, but she only made it a few steps before she paused again. She had never relied on instinct, but something felt _off._ She allowed the metal rings on her hands to coat her fingertips as she stared at the curtain again, adrenaline coursing through her veins as it swayed, the rings on the runner creaking as it settled.

‘We’re not alone,’ she said, electricity sparking over her skin. Tony turned to face it too, palms open, his repulsors at the ready as they watched the shadows. Danielle swivelled at the sound of footsteps, facing the numerous project tables at her side. 

‘We need to go,’ she said, backing up, her eyes darting, ‘now.’

They moved as quickly as they could toward the exit, Tony keeping watch as Danielle unlocked the heavy security doors. Tony stood behind her, scanning the room. ‘Jarvis, turn on thermal,’ he said. He turned to check the tables where they had seen movement, noting nothing out of the ordinary. The tension created by their infiltration was getting to them, he decided after one final look at the back of the room. He turned to back to Danielle, believing stress had them spooked until he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He reacted on instinct, screaming for Danielle to duck as he raised his replsor, aiming at the crouched shape to their right. As he fired off a shot it launched straight at them, taking a hit to the chest.

Tony didn’t look back to assess the damage. He shoved Danielle through the door the moment it slid open, following her through and hitting the close button. They sprinted back along the corridor, Danielle turning as they reached the enclosed bridge. Tony nearly barrelled into her as she stopped, but he soon realised why her focus had returned to the lab as an ear piercing screech of metal followed them down the hallway. Alarms roared to life as a figure stepped through the gap, the dull security lights only half-illuminating its frame. All they knew was that it – whatever _it_ was – stood taller than Tony in the Iron Man suit, its body glistening with metal. At first, Danielle thought that it was another Iron Man style suit, that they’d somehow developed the technology, but as it stepped forward and the light fell directly upon it she realised that the reality was much, much worse.

Metal was twisted into its bare thighs and biceps, and as it flexed prosthetic arms blades appeared at the elbow, the very same blades that she had noted on the arm that lay on the table at the lab. It started towards them, taking a few strides before it broke into a run. Tony didn’t dare to waste another moment; he grabbed Danielle bodily, forcing her onto the enclosed bridge, screaming, ‘ _Run_!’

Her breaths came in broken gasps as she sprinted ahead of him across the bridge. He knew what she was thinking, though he could hardly believe it himself; they had taken her life work and turned it into a monster. 

A crash sounded behind them as they reached the stairs and Tony dared to glance back. Plaster and brick collapsed in the corridor behind them, a section of the wall failing, but the figure quickly righted itself in the cascade of debris.

Danielle bolted up the stairs, sending a crippling blast at the door. It flew off its hinges and across the rooftop, soon followed by Danielle as she skidded out of the exit. The moment they hit the fresh air Tony reached for her. She clung to his suit; although he barely had a hold of her when he lifted off, he’d adjust his grip when they were in the air. They needed to be off the ground as fast as possible.

Heavy footsteps sounded in the stairwell as they began to lift off and Tony dared a glance down at the figure below them. It had once been a man, but only a shell remained. The distorted features stared up at him, calculating the distance; not even a flicker of emotion crossed its gaze as it crouched low, springing up toward them, latching onto Tony’s leg. They swayed dangerously with the sudden weight and Danielle screamed as it reached for her, its metallic fingers clamping tight around her ankle. It pushed against Tony’s leg, forcing her feet from their perch on his boots. With a hard yank, it dragged Danielle from Tony’s grasp, dropping back down to the rooftop. Tony could only watch, unable to descend fast enough.

It landed on its feet and Danielle crashing down beside it, another cry wrenched from her at the impact. She rolled away when it dropped down beside her, narrowly avoiding the blade that slammed down into the concrete beside her with such force it broke off at the creature’s elbow.

Tony dropped back down, putting himself between Danielle and the approaching figure. He charged the repulsors again, blasting it back toward the staircase, but the sound of it hitting the roof didn’t mask the footsteps ascending the stairs. 

The guards.

Tony sprinted for Danielle, crouching to help her up. She clutched at her shoulder, her chest heaving with pain, her body shaking. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, but the shortness of her breath and her white-knuckled grasp on her shoulder belied the statement.

‘You’re not.’

She didn’t argue – they didn’t have time. Instead, she dropped her hand to reach into her sleeve. She bit her lip hard, drawing attention away from the white-hot pain that shot up her arm as she pulled a handful of nails from the sheaths. She charged one and flung it at the figure. The nail exploded at its feet as it approached, but its steps did not falter, and soon the guards were swarming from the stairwell and fanning out to surround them.

‘We know you’re armed,’ one shouted, ‘surrender your weapons, now, and raise your hands!’

‘Do as they say, Tony,’ Danielle said through gritted teeth as she raised her hand slowly. The nails fell to the ground, each clinking dully on the concrete roof. Tony could do little else but obey; he couldn’t get her out of here fast enough in her state, and he sensed the guards would shoot at the slightest provocation. A twitch, for example. He might be wearing a full suit of armour, but Danielle wasn’t. One wayward bullet was all it would take to mortally wound her.

‘Raise your other arm,’ the guard barked at Danielle.

‘I _can’t.’_

‘I said raise your arms and surrender your weapons!’

‘I can’t!’ she screamed back, sparks dancing on her skin at the surge of her anger. The guards’ advance faltered at the display, but their weapons remained trained on her and Tony.

‘As for my weapons,’ she said, ‘I think it’s only fair if you surrender yours too.’ 

The rifles began to vibrate violently, the metal twisting in their hands until it threatened to crush their fingers, then finally the clattered to the ground, distorted beyond recognition. Some of the guards reacted faster, pulling out handguns, but others stared in shock at the carnage.

‘What the– Prosthesis, apprehend the intruders.’

Prosthesis didn’t need to be told twice. Tony moved to block it and Prosthesis engaged without thought, reaching straight for Tony’s neck. It lifted him and slammed him into the concrete, chunks breaking with the force, then it reached for its forearm as a cover slid back to reveal a compartment. It retrieved a small disc from within, starting towards Tony who rolled away as fast as he could manage. He barely escaped whatever Prosthesis intended to use the device for, but his success was short lived. Prosthesis slammed a heavy foot into the side of the Iron Man suit without a flinch, crushing both its foot and the side of Tony’s armour with the impact, but the damage didn’t slow Prosthesis down. Danielle could only watch as Prosthesis placed the disc against Tony’s chest, an intense electric charge surging through the suit. Tony arched against the concrete, a broken, distorted cry crackling from within the armour.   

Danielle lurched toward Tony, desperate to crush the metal limbs of Prosthesis, but it turned too quickly for her injured body. He knocked her down with a swipe of his arm, breath whooshing from her lungs when she landed on her back, a fresh wave of pain roaring through her as her shoulder dislocated. She gasped for breath, fighting against the many-handed grasp of the guards as they ascended on her, pinning her to the concrete. Prosthesis loomed above her, another compartment opening in his arm to reveal a syringe, searing pain blossoming from her neck as he slammed it home. She stared up at Prosthesis’ misshapen features; her gaze traced the prosthetic ear, the scarred cheek, before settling on the eerily perfect prosthetic eyes that stared back, and as her vision grew dark, she saw that no humanity dwelled within its dead gaze.


	10. Containment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _...An edge of panic swelled within her. She desperately searched for a way out, eyes darting, a choked cry escaping her as her gaze locked on the table beside her. Tony was laid out on the shining metal table as if on a slab, his form painfully still. She had to believe he was just unconscious despite the current that Prosthesis had delivered to his suit through that disc..._

* * *

**Chapter Ten  
** **Containment**

Danielle woke to the steady _thump thump thump_ of pain in her head, her eyes watering as she forced them to open. The edges of her vision were hazy and her eyes burned. At some time during her unconsciousness they’d taken out her contacts; her eyes hadn’t been able to regulate the blinding light of the operating lamp above her. 

On top of the pain already searing through her head and shoulder, her chest ached, the scarred skin above her heart prickling. The restraints around her wrists and ankles bit into her skin, the bindings already chafing at the slightest movements. Her breath came in short gasps – she could do little more when every breath shifted her dislocated shoulder – and her heart thundered in her chest as she tried to look around the room and assess her situation. What else could she feel? She wondered, trying to think past the pain, and she realised she could feel wires resting on her stomach. She focused on those, could feel the plastic winding up along her skin all the way to her chest, and she quickly realised why her heartbeat was so erratic: the wires were delivering pulses directly into her chest, interrupting her clockwork heart’s function.

Danielle dared to turn her head to take in more of her surroundings as her eyes adjusted to the blinding light. A machine had been wheeled up beside her, and she was sure it was responsible for the disruption to her heart’s function. Between the steady ache in her skull she struggled to pull together her thoughts. She tried to focus on something around her but almost regretted doing so she realised why the light seemed distorted at the edge of her eyes; she was surrounded by plexiglass sheeting at least an inch thick.

No conduction. No metal in reach except what lay in – or connected to – her heart, the use of which would be suicide, and of which was contingent on whether or not she _could_ even use her abilities. Her heartbeat and breathing were so severely interrupted she could hardly pull together a coherent thought, let alone muster the necessary focus to carefully extract the wires from her chest. She was trapped, a play-thing for the monsters she had hoped to destroy.

An edge of panic swelled within her. She desperately searched for a way out, eyes darting, a choked cry escaping her when her gaze locked on the table beside her. Tony was laid out on the shining metal table as if on a slab, his form painfully still. She had to believe he was just unconscious despite the current that Prosthesis had delivered to his suit through that disc.

Desperate to reach him, she pulled against her restraints, making the bindings bite deeper into her skin. Even as they tore against her flesh she strained until a wave of dizziness washed over her, the interruptions to her heart’s function increasing rapidly at her movements. At that moment she knew that the wires were not simply attached to the outer layer; for the pulse to have such an effect on her, it was linked directly to the inner workings.

She dared to lift her thumping head to look at her chest. Her shirt was torn, blood smeared across her skin where incisions had been made, but her reconstructed ribs were in place. She had no idea how long she’d been out, but she knew it had likely taken hours for a surgeon to navigate through to the internal structures. 

She tried to use her power, stupid as a part of her thought it might be, tried to pull some metal from around her into her hand, but her heart stuttered violently, and deep down she knew her attempts were in vain; they had stripped her of every piece, from her mask to her heavy shoes. They had even ripped the studs from her ears; she could feel that crusted, dried blood had dribbled down her neck and dried in her hair. The only metal that remained was preventing her ribs from collapsing or was beating inside her.

Hit by a wave of desperation, she strained harder against the bonds, tearing her exposed wrists further until they burned with pain. She felt stitches in the heavy fabric split, but the bonds held firm.

_No way out…_

Danielle went limp when she heard the creak of hinges. Footsteps shuffled into the room and distorted voices spoke in shocked murmurs.

‘Iron Man–’

‘She’s still alive–’

A hand landed heavily on the plexiglass that surrounded her and a voice shouted her name. She lifted her gaze to him slowly, trying her best not to show the panic overwhelming her thoughts. She met Dexter Samuel’s familiar gaze, and he revealed yellowed teeth in a sickening grin. ‘I knew you were still alive, you little bitch,’ he said. His eyes darted down, tracing her body, and she repressed the urge to spit at him, knowing it would do nothing but splatter on the plexiglass between them. Marcus Birch and Lionel Drakeson peered over his shoulder and she realised her three former bosses intended to observe her pain, to toy with her until death. They could do whatever they wanted, keep her as long as they wanted; she was already dead as far as the world was concerned. There was no proof of her existence after the night of the explosion. Worse, they now knew Tony was helping her, that Stark Industries was helping her.

_Pepper._

She cursed herself, cursed the fact that she’d ignored her instincts. She’d known from the beginning that it was too dangerous to bring people into this, but Tony had been so stubborn, so determined to help before he even knew the truth. It would only be a matter of time before the three men standing over her would be informed of Pepper’s efforts to resist the reinstatement of any contracts and partnerships between Stark Industries and the APRDC, if they didn’t know already. They would easily connect her actions to Danielle and Tony’s infiltration and they would hunt Pepper down. She doubted they even cared how high they would have to reach, not this time, not when teased by the sweet scent of revenge. Would they go after her brother too? Assume he had some part in her survival?

Rage boiled within her. She felt it burn in her gaze and spark on her skin in a violent array of light that arched against the plexiglass until the machine connected to her heart pulsed, disrupting the build-up of energy. Despite the interruption to her power, the smiles on their lips had faltered at the display, and they each took a cautious step back. She could see her glowing red eyes reflected in Samuel’s gaze.

‘A neat little trick,’ Samuel said after clearing his throat. He stepped closer again, tapping on the plexiglass and glancing to the machine, recovering his bravado in the form of that sickening smile. ‘It won’t help you.’  

‘I’m going to tear down every part of this facility. Trapping me in a box won’t save you. You know I’ll find a way out of here before you can run any experiments on me.’

She caught the twitch of Samuel’s lip. It was enough, and she racked her brain, calculating. She knew they would want her expertise, her knowledge. Experiments meant that they needed to learn something, maybe even fix something.

_Fix something_ …

Prosthesis.

‘Your little metal man isn’t working right, is he?’ she jeered, ‘he’s thinking a little too clearly, making you nervous. He’s making you wonder if you should have put all those weapons in the limbs you rebuilt, wondering if you should have made him so strong and fast. Did you even put him under before you started to operate or did you just let him scream as you carved into his flesh and replaced it with metal?’

‘We lost our best prosthetic scientist,’ Samuel said, but his lip twitched again, ‘who best to learn from than the maker?’

‘You’ll learn nothing from me.’

Drakeson reached for the disruptor gleefully, turning the knob. Her heart stuttered to an agonizing stop and Danielle arched against the pain that rippled through her. She tried to choke in a breath, her lungs only filling when her heart began to beat weakly within her chest again. 

‘Oh…’ Drakeson chuckled. ‘We can learn many things from you.’ He looked beyond the box that contained her to the table on which Tony lay unconscious. He stared at Tony, his pace leisurely as he came to stand on the far side. He tapped Tony’s helmet, glancing at her as he said, ‘and so many more things from Mister Stark.’

She barely hid her snarl, but hid it she did. She couldn’t let on that Tony was important to her: it would be her only chance to save him. 

‘Not only did you bring us your most valuable innovation, but you have also gifted us with Iron Man,’ he said, ‘as if you’re trying to repay us for all the awful problems you caused when you left.’

‘You deserved everything you got and more.’

Drakeson _tutted_. ‘So tough, Danielle. You think you’re going to get out of this, that you’ll survive like last time, but we’re going to rip that little heart out of your chest,’ he said, tapping against Tony’s helmet again, his form still lying lifeless on the table, ‘and the hero? Well, he’s too drugged up to save you.’

_But I can save him_.

The thought danced across her mind, a flicker of hope. It was all she needed; she caught that thread, holding tight. She stayed as still as she could manage as she focused her power, fighting against the searing pain as she leeched the metal from her ribcage, hollowing the structure out. Piece by piece it pushed through the break in her skin and rolled down her stomach, pooling under her flattened palm. She left only enough to support her ribs, though a strong blow would shatter them.

She sneered. ‘I don’t need saving.’

Drakeson chuckled as he strolled back around the table to stand by beside the box and the machine. ‘You do, Danielle. Not that anyone will miss you.’

‘You missed me,’ she whispered, managing a smirk. The three men crowded around her chuckled, apparently amused by her bravado.

_That’s right_ , she thought as tiny specks of charged metal rolled from beneath her hand, burning white hot to ignite the restraints, _focus on my face. Doubt me_.

She ripped her arm free, ignoring the searing pain as she jostled her dislocated shoulder, all her focus on forming the metal into a knife to cut her ankles free. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Drake lunge for the machine. She couldn’t disconnect herself from it in time, his hand landing on the knob. When he increased the pulse, her vision blackened, pain intensifying under the surge. She gathered the metal in her palm, reaching blindly for the sides of the box. It streamed along the upper edge of the plexiglass and she ducked down, covering her face with her arm as the lid exploded. It crashed down on Birch, forcing the others to fling themselves aside and giving her the chance she needed to rise to her knees. She needed metal. _Now_.

She pulled on the wires of the box, dragging the machine and table toward her.  Drakeson stared at her, eyes wide. ‘It will kill you.’

She raised her gaze to his, the red sparking violently. ‘I’m already dead. Remember?’

A thrill danced in her veins when her hand touched the cool metal table, the outer layer coiling toward her. She was directly connected to the electricity grid, directly connected to every device within the facility. Power surged within her, building even as she felt the pulses destroying the computer chip that controlled her heart. She knew that the moment she released the electricity building within her chest that there would be nothing left to keep her heart pumping, yet the thought didn’t give her pause. Everything they had mutilated, everything of hers that they had touched with their greed and devastation would be destroyed. 

_I’ve died once. I can do it again._

The surge rippled through the building, the facility shaking violently as the transformers and substations that powered it exploded. The lights above her shattered with the force of the surge and glass rained down, showering the three men. Drakeson screamed, too late in shielding his eyes, and he staggered blindly towards the door as the room plunged into darkness.

‘Soldier!’ Samuel shouted from somewhere behind her, voice panic-stricken, ‘kill her!’

The door through which Drake had made his hasty retreat ripped from its hinges and Prosthesis stalked into the room, its deadened eyes locked onto Danielle through the darkness. Its footsteps landed heavily on the tiled floor, coming closer, and she desperately ripped a piece of metal from the machine, charging the shard in her hand, knowing that there was no other option.  

‘I’m sorry.’

She threw the metal, the shard embedding deep in Prosthesis’ chest, sparking angrily before it exploded. The force ripped through flesh and metal alike, and the heavy steps faltered. It stared at her, the brain within taking control as the electric surge released by the shard fried the electronic systems. She swore that for the briefest moment, relief filled the dark gaze before Prosthesis dropped to its knees, body crumpling in a heap. 

Sirens sounded in the distance in response to the explosions on site, and she knew that there would be no escape for the three bosses, not this time. The explosion had triggered the necessary events, and the files would release automatically at the first whisper of APRDC in the media. It wouldn’t be the happy ending she’d hoped, with her and Tony long out of the firing line, but one way or another it was the end for the APRDC. The facility had been opened wide by her attack, drawing the attention they’d hoped to avoid. Drakeson would be caught before he reached the outer complex, and they would find Birch unconscious on the floor in this very room with Samuel.

The thought was comforting, even as she neared the end. Her heart was failing and her skin felt clammy, her body shaking with weakness as she turned towards Samuel. She ripped the wires from the machine before she pushed herself up and over the edge of the plexiglass container. She barely kept herself on her feet, her knees threatening to collapse under her, but she steadied herself on the edge of the box which had been her prison, her gaze finding Samuel’s. He’d backed himself up against the wall, the man who’d believed himself so powerful cowering before her gaze.

‘Don’t kill me,’ he whispered, ‘it–it’s too easy. You’ll never get what you want back. I can give that to you. I can. I can make this right. I can fix this.’

Sparks still danced on her skin, but they were diminishing with every step, each one absorbed by a beat of her dying heart. Her lips twisted sardonically. ‘Why would I kill you?’ she asked, ‘that was never the plan, not when you’ve got all those war crimes tucked under your belt. If I’m really lucky, some country will demand that you be extradited and they’ll do all the work for me. Or you’ll be torn apart by the authorities as they fight over who gets to take the biggest chunk of your flesh as payment for the damage you’ve caused. Either way, your life is over, and I don’t even have to touch you.’

Samuel opened his mouth again – whether to beg or threaten, Danielle didn’t care. She kicked hard, the heel of her foot connecting with his chin. His eyes rolled back and his head lolled, body slackening as he fell unconscious. Danielle didn’t get to enjoy the satisfaction that coursed through her at the sight; her vision blackened again, longer this time, and she had to fight against the crushing weight in her chest and head. She stumbled backwards and caught the edge of the other table, barely keeping herself from collapsing.

She turned to Tony, using the edge of the table to support her as her legs struggled to hold her weight. She leant hard against the metal, reaching for the mask to lift it from his face. He was so still, so terrifyingly still. She leant over him, a sob of relief ripping through her when she felt a gentle exhalation caress her cheek.

She had to wake him, she knew, but her clouded mind failed her. She touched his chest and gasped at the spark that shocked her palm; the arc reactor glowed in the dim room, the light calling to her. She lifted her hand and sparks rolled down her arm, her heart stuttering as she gathered the last of her energy within her palm before she slammed it into the chest of the suit. She felt her power surge forth and he arched from the table with a broken gasp, his eyes shooting open. His gaze darted for a moment before locking onto hers as her vision dimmed, the red in her eyes dull, drained.

‘Run,’ she whispered as her heart stuttered to a halt within her chest, her hands losing their grip on the table before she collapsed onto the cold tiled floor.

Tony threw himself off the table, dropping down beside her. He pulled her into his arms and she hung limply in his embrace, his chest constricting at the sight of her pallid skin. He stared intently at her, her bloodied chest lifeless beneath his gaze, and even with Jarvis still booting up, he didn’t need the AI to tell him that her heart had stopped. Wires still protruded from her skin, wires that he knew had to be connected to her heart. He set his mask back in place, scanning the darkened room, taking in the damaged machine with the matching wires. In that moment he knew she’d sacrificed herself to draw attention to the facility, to the damning evidence that would ruin her former bosses. 

She had sacrificed herself to keep them away from _him_. 

Panic seized his chest, fear trickling through his veins. He had to believe that he could save her. He strode toward the broken door, tucking her tight against his chest as he sprinted down the hall. Alarms and sirens sounded all around as emergency crews arrived on site. He needed to get out without being seen, and fast.

He shot up the first set of stairs he found, staying out of sight as heavily booted feet pounded past, voices shouting out commands to clear the building. When the footsteps faded he pushed himself until he reached the roof. He ducked her head against his shoulder, protecting her as he threw his full weight against the door, the hinges snapping with the force, and he rushed through, taking off as soon as he broke out into the open air to hurtle through the black night.

‘Jarvis, call Pepper. Now!’

The phone rang only a few times before she answered. ‘Tony?’

‘Meet me at home. I – fuck, just hurry!’

‘I’m already here. I came the moment their board cut off communication. It’s all over the news. My God, Tony, I thought–’

‘I’m fine. It’s Danielle.’ He choked on her name. No more words were needed.

The moment he reached his house he dropped from the sky, uncaring of the damage he caused as he landed in his workshop. Pepper was waiting for him beside a clear table, her face pale with fear, becoming paler still when her eyes fell on Danielle’s limp and mangled form as Tony laid her on the table.

‘Jarvis, I need every piece of equipment we have, now!’

His robots rolled to him, the medical equipment that he had in the shop in tow. He ripped off as much of his suit as he could manage, the pieces falling around him as they unhinged from his body. He kicked them aside in his frustration, his hands shaking as he wiped the blood from her skin and connected the heart monitor to her chest. Jarvis brought up the monitor on the screen beside him and his chest constricted at the thin line that appeared. 

‘Pepper get the gloves. Top drawer on your left.’ 

Pepper darted toward the drawer, rummaging quickly in it before she rushed to Tony’s side. Her eyes locked on Danielle’s bloodied chest as Tony took the box from her hands, desperately pulling a pair on. He stared at his shaking hands for a moment, nearly startling when Pepper squeezed his shoulder tight. He looked at her and for the briefest moment, their gazes met before she nodded and reached for her own pair of gloves.

‘We have to get her heart beating,’ he said. ‘Jarvis, I need you to scan her heart. We need to know what that machine did to her.’

‘It would appear they connected some sort of EMP device directly to her hear. It has significantly damaged the inner workings of the prosthetic.’

A model of her heart appeared beside the silent heart monitor. ‘Pull it apart,’ Tony demanded, ‘show me the damaged pieces.’

The image broke into individual pieces, rotating slowly, and for the first time since Danielle had dropped to the floor beside him, he felt hope. Jarvis was already remaking the chip, and Dummy had wheeled over a plethora of electrical components. To his sheer relief, all but one of the mechanical pieces remained intact.

‘Jarvis, we need part number 39. Use the new element for the shell. Two minutes.’

‘Sir.’

Tony heard the distant whir of part makers start up at Jarvis’ acknowledgement of the command and he reached for the kit that Butterfingers had brought to him, pulling the scalpel from it as Pepper adjusted a lamp.

‘Oh god, her ribs,’ Pepper breathed as Tony sliced into her chest. She’d syphoned so much from them that hardly a shell of each rib remained, barely enough to prevent a total collapse.

‘We can rebuild them, we need to get to her heart,’ he said as he began to push beneath her skin. He carefully detached the ribs, setting them aside on the table before he turned his attention to the protective layer that surrounded her heart. He could hear Pepper’s shallow breaths, her worry filling the air around them as he carefully breached it, but she did not waver in her support as he worked to remove the wiring that still protruded from her heart, wiring connected directly to the inner workings after they’d forcing through the insulation layer that protected the chip within. He felt sweat break over his skin as he gently extracted the wires, calling to Dummy to retrieve the electronic parts which had been damaged. He replaced each one meticulously, connecting the new chip before he repaired the insulating layer.  

Butterfingers returned from the machinist workshop at Jarvis’ direction, holding the final part. He removed the damaged mechanical piece, tossing it aside before he replaced it with the new metal. He held his breath, too afraid he might move at the wrong moment, and he heard a gentle click as it slid into place, followed by a mechanical whirr. He closed the outer protective layer and replaced the depleted rib section, knowing that they could repair it later. He barely kept his hands from shaking, hope blooming within him as he and Pepper worked together to stitch up the gaping wound. The moment the final stitch was in place, he glanced at the monitor, the thin line taunting him.

‘It’s not working,’ he whispered, ‘why isn’t it working?’

‘Tony…’

His eyes burned with tears, his chest so tight he could hardly breathe. He stalked away from the table, ripping his gloves off, pacing. ‘What does she need?’ He muttered. ‘How can I jump start a clockwork heart?’

‘Sir,’ Jarvis said, but Tony continued to pace, and the AI said again, ‘ _Sir_.’

Pepper grasped his arm, drawing him back towards her. ‘Tony, you said jump start.’

He caught her train of thought, saying, ‘she depleted her stores of energy when she destroyed the facility and then when she woke me.’

_But_ _how would she fix it?_ Memories assailed him at the thought, drawing him back to the night when he’d set her on the very same table on which she now lay. _How would she get it beating again? How would she_ –

He didn’t need to finish the thought before he sprang into action, grabbing an extension cord from a drawer before he sprinted to the closest power point. He connected it then darted back to the table. Picking up a piece of rubber matting he looked around desperately, eyeing – of all things – a fork lying on the closest table.

‘It’ll do,’ he growled, jamming one end into the power point before he pressed the metal directly against her chest.


	11. Heartbeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _...The room plunged into darkness as the clockwork heart sapped the house, drawing electricity faster than the grid could supply, and with the sound of a vicious clap of thunder electricity surged from her, so loud that Tony and Pepper’s ears throbbed, and a light so blinding filled the room that even with his eyes snapped tightly shut, it burned. Items on tables shuddered from the shockwave, a few pages floating from the tables that surrounded her, rustling for the briefest moment as they touched the floor before the room became entirely still – the calm after a storm..._

* * *

**Chapter Eleven  
** **Heartbeat**

Danielle’s body arched off the table at the surge, the monitor stuttering out a flurry of sound, struggling to keep up with the rapid beats. Power flowed into her heart so fast the organ seemed to be sapping electricity directly from the grid, the workshop lights flickering as sparks began to dart over her skin. Pepper issued a shot cry when bulbs popped, and at Tony’s urging Butterfingers swept the closest lamps to the floor in the nick of time.

Tony didn’t move, even as glass rained down and an alarm started to go off somewhere in the house. He didn’t move even when electricity crackled around him and raised the hairs on his body, his eyes focused intently on Danielle as sparks multiplied across her skin, forming into currents that carved blinding paths around her body. He could feel a charge building, knew that he had to hold on just a little longer… 

‘Pepper get back!’ he cried, fighting to keep the fork pressed against Danielle’s chest as the sheer force of the electricity around her began to push back, her whole body beginning to _glow_ with blinding light. ‘Get behind something and don’t touch anything metal!’

Only when Pepper had ducked for cover did he snatch his hand away, dragging the fork from the power cord and throwing the white-hot metal aside as he dropped to the floor. He dared a final glance up at the monitor – seeing the screen showed nothing but a blur of spikes – before he dropped down and covered his head with his arms. The room plunged into darkness as the clockwork heart sapped the house, drawing electricity faster than the grid could supply, and with the sound of a vicious clap of thunder electricity surged from her, so loud that Tony and Pepper’s ears throbbed, and a light so blinding filled the room that even with his eyes snapped tightly shut, it burned. Items on tables shuddered from the shockwave, a few pages floating from the tables that surrounded her, rustling for the briefest moment as they touched the floor before the room became entirely still – the calm after a storm.  

And in the silence, Tony heard the monitor _blip_.

He crawled back up to his feet, limbs shaky from the sheer force of the jump-start. He leant over the table, reaching for her as the remaining lights flickered back on, and when he cupped her pale cheeks in his hands she drew a short, shaky breath, the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

Even as lingering sparks danced across his hands, he refused to let go, and he brushed his thumbs over her smooth skin, but when her eyes snapped open they were filled with terror. She tried to sit up, but the moment she moved she cried out as the action jostled her still dislocated shoulder Tony grasped her hand, leaning over her. ‘You’re safe, Danielle. You’re okay. You need to stay still for me.’

She sucked in great gulps of air, chest heaving with every breath. ‘I was dead, wasn’t I?’

We’ll talk about that in a minute,’ he said, tracing patterns on her palm with his fingertips. ‘I need you to take a few slow breaths for me… that’s it. Nice and slow. I still need to look at your arm. It’s going to hurt, but I’ll be as quick as I can.’

He caught her gaze; her eyes were glowing, the red brighter than he’d ever seen. ‘Okay,’ she whispered.

Pepper eased closer when Tony beckoned her, and she eased into Tony’s place as he went to the other side of the table. Her eyes were shining with tears but they were filled with relief. ‘You hold my hand and you squeeze as hard as you need to, okay?’

Danielle managed the smallest smile, and gratefully accepted Pepper’s offer. 

‘Jarvis, I need you to guide me,’ Tony said, and the AI – having recovered from the sudden surge – talked Tony through relocating her shoulder. Tony was right, it was painful, but when the joint popped back into place the three released a collective sigh of relief. Slowly, Pepper and Tony helped Danielle sit up to secure her arm in a sling before she eased off the table. Dummy led the way to the kitchenette, sucking up the glass in their path, and they sat her gently on the couch.

‘I’ll go find you something to clean that blood of you,’ Pepper said before she rushed off up the stairs.  

‘I’ll get you some water,’ Tony said, but Danielle caught her hand when he tried to pull away. He turned back to her, sitting beside her on the couch when she tugged at his arm. ‘What?’

‘Is it over?’ she asked, her voice cracking at the final word.

He glanced at the screen across from them. ‘TV on. News.’

The screen instantly switched to a twenty-four-hour news channel, and the images that filled the screen made her breath catch. A live bulletin showed police and fire crews surveying the complex before the image switched to a reporter.

‘I’m on site at the Advanced Prosthetic Research and Development Centre headquarters where a power surge has caused a severe disturbance, disabling the heavy security and causing explosions to be heard up to two miles away, resulting in a mass response. As you can see behind me, there is dark smoke billowing from some sections of the complex, and there are dozens of first responders on site directing an evacuation, and a search. The explosion is smaller than the one that rocked the facility a little more than two years ago, and which resulted in the death of the lead scientist, Doctor Danielle Brooker, but tonight’s events have revealed some disturbing secrets from the APRDC’s closet.’ The image changed again, this time showing the body of Prosthesis briefly before a police officer covered the camera with his hand. ‘Documents have emerged this evening which suggest that Doctor Brooker’s death was in fact orchestrated to prevent her from contacting authorities and revealing the disturbing experiments and the production of toxic gases allegedly conducted at the facility under the direction of Dexter Samuel, Marcus Birch, and Lionel Drakeson, all of whom have been taken for questioning. We will follow this story as it develops. This is Naomi Walker reporting live from…’

Tears welled in Danielle’s eyes, a sob breaking in her chest. She was _free_. 

Tony pulled her into his arms, holding her as her she shuddered with the release of pent-up emotions. He glanced up when Pepper appeared at the edge of the kitchenette and stopped in her tracks as she glanced at the TV, then at Danielle. She caught Tony’s gaze and she crept closer, placing a bowl of warm water and a clean cloth. Tony mouthed, ‘thank you,’ and a smile spread over her lips. She walked quietly away, disappearing up the steps to leave them in peace.

He held Danielle as she cried, as the burden of secrets began to lift from her shoulders, and only when she raised her eyes to his did he settle her back against the couch and reach for the cloth. He dipped it in the water, gently dabbing at the blood on her chest where he’d had to cut through to reach her heart. The wound was neatly closed, despite how much his hands had been shaking, and he was again grateful for Pepper’s support in such a terrifying moment. 

‘I hope you don’t mind,’ he whispered as he dabbed the last of the blood away and threw the cloth aside, drawing her closer again, ‘but when I fixed the damage to your heart I added a little something to it.’ She laid her head on his shoulder, content to listen as he continued, ‘one of the core components was damaged, a piece that I believe is integral to the heart’s ability to store power. It… it seemed so familiar, and I’ve realised why.’ When she lifted her gaze he tapped his chest. ‘It may not be an arc reactor, but the concept of power generation is quite similar. Mine keeps shrapnel from reaching my heart, and also allows me to power my suit. Yours allows you to store and utilise power on a massive scale without ill effects to your body. It might be even more effective now with this new part; you nearly wiped out the power grid when I shocked your heart back into motion.’

‘What did you add?’

‘I… well, it doesn’t have a name yet,’ he admitted, tapping the Arc reactor in his chest again, ‘but it’s the same metal that’s keeping me alive. I figured it could help you too.’

She reached for his hand, laying his palm on her chest, letting him feel the steady hum of power and the sturdy beat of her clockwork heart. ‘You more than helped me,’ she whispered. ‘You didn’t have to save me, Tony.’

‘I did.’ He traced his thumb over her cheek. ‘You used the last of your power to get me out of there. You were willing to sacrifice yourself to…’ He closed his eyes, refusing to sink into the memories.  

‘For someone so smart, you’re a total dumbass...’ She leant into his touch before she pressed closer, capturing his lips. She melted into his embrace, but before he could draw her closer a pained gasp escaped her lips and he pulled back, catching her grimace before she could hide it.

‘Let’s get you cleaned up,’ he said, helping her to her feet, and before she could argue he tucked his arms under her leg and back, scooping her into his arms to carry her out of the workshop and up the stairs. To his surprise, though, she didn’t protest, and instead leant into his chest as he carried her through his bedroom and into the ensuite.

He placed her gently on her feet, supporting her arm as he unclipped the sling and helped her strip the ruined shirt. His brow tightened as his eyes fell upon her skin, upon the dark blotches where bruises were beginning to blossom. He reached to touch the mark on her rib, his touch feather-light against the mark. ‘They took your armour off only so they could beat you,’ he whispered, yet his words resonated with restrained anger.

‘They’ll get exactly what they deserve. We’ve made sure of that.’

She gripped the bottom hem of his shirt, tugging it, and he quirked an eyebrow at her as she edged it higher to reveal the tanned skin beneath. He pulled it over his head, dropping it beside him as he reached for her. He helped her out of the rest of her clothes before his joined the growing pile. His hands sought her skin, longing to hold her, to be reassured by her warmth.

As they stepped into the shower the water came on instantly, the room quickly filling with steam. She was still unsteady on her feet, her body shuddering with weakness, but she trusted his steadying hands. She leant back into his chest under the hot spray and a smile spread over her lips as his arm wrapped tight around her waist, allowing her to prop her shoulder up.

He pressed a kiss to that very shoulder, whispering against her skin, ‘I’ve got you.’

Slowly, painstakingly, he gently washed the blood from her hair and neck, then from her knuckles. Once he was sure he’d cleaned every trace from her skin he turned her to face him, drawing her tight against his chest. She rested her head on his shoulder, and for a moment he was sure he heard her whisper his name. He placed a kiss against her temple, wanting to believe that she’d said the words he longed to hear, but he knew that it was just an exhausted fantasy, his mind playing tricks on him as she said, ‘Tony.’

He glanced down, brushing a thumb over her cheek, ‘yes?’

‘I want to see my brother,’ she whispered, pulling back to catch his gaze, ‘when I know that the APRDC is done for good, and… when I’ve healed a little.’

‘Of… of course.’

They stepped out of the shower, Tony close behind her, still wary of her weary limbs. He wrapped a plush towel around his waist before he placed one over her shoulders, helping her dry off.

‘Thank you,’ she said, glancing up at him. He pushed her hands down gently, revealing her chest so he could gently tape a pad over the wound to protect the stitches before he helped her back into the sling.

She turned to face the mirror, and with a determined look, she dropped the towel. ‘With some of the energy I absorbed tonight, maybe some of the bruises won’t be so bad in a week. Even the sling would be enough to upset him. He’d probably pass out with worry if he saw me like this.’ She turned her head side to side, sweeping her hair aside with her free hand to look at examine her ears before she looked straight at the mirror again. She sighed. ‘The eyes are going to be a bit of a shock, too,’ she muttered, gaze dropping slightly as she turned gingerly, examining herself in a detached sort of way to note each of the angry marks covering her body. She saw bruises and cuts. Future scars. But to Tony, each was a mark of her resilience and strength, of her integrity, of the fight she’d never given up on despite every moment of fear, hate, and pain she’d endured. The fight she’d _won_.

Tony squared his shoulders, jaw set. Stepping up behind her, he caught her gaze in the mirror. ‘You’re beautiful, Danielle. Always.’ Her eyes flickered, and she turned to him. He cupped her face in his hands, pressing a kiss to each cheek, then to her nose, and when her eyelids fluttered closed he pressed the softest kisses to them, too.

He wrapped her in his embrace and she tucked her head against his chest, allowing him to sweep his lips across the shell of her ear. He knew she could hear his heart thundering against his ribs, but nothing could hold his tongue any longer, and he said, ‘I let nerves hold me back before. After coming so close to losing you, I won’t let them hold me back again. I love you. I love you, Danielle.’

‘I love you too,’ she said, and she clutched at him, uncaring of the pain that radiated through her arm as she crushed it between them.

Relief filled him at the realisation that she was finally safe. He would find her brother as soon as she was ready. She would no longer have to hide from him to keep him safe; she would finally have her family back. He imagined her smile, the delightful curve of her lips that he craved, that he knew he would see fill her eyes. There would be no more fear, no more sadness. But at that moment he was the source of her happiness, and they poured their love into a tender, lingering kiss before sheer exhaustion forced them to retreat to the bedroom.

Tony set her on the silken sheets, his towel flung across the room before he joined her. He drew her back against his chest, her body readily moulding to his. He pressed a kiss to her neck before he settled in behind her, his arm wrapped as tight around her as he dared, acting as a secondary support to her sling-bound arm. He listened to her steady exhalations, felt her tired muscles relax limb by limb as she fell asleep in his arms, and finally, he allowed himself to drift off with her. 

* * *

Danielle's stomach fluttered with nerves, manifesting in wringing her hands and a seemingly endless back and forth as she paced the lounge. She barely resisted the urge to chew off her fingernails when wringing her hands failed to ease her mind, and she instead tucked her arms around herself, also resisting the growing urge to spin the metal bangles – gifts from Tony – around and around her wrists.

Her body still ached in more places than she could count, but when she’d looked in the mirror only an hour before, she’d been sure that the cuts on her chest were showing clear signs of accelerated healing. She looked reasonably healthy, considering she’d almost died only nine days before.

She was so captivated by her churning thoughts she didn’t notice Tony return from the entrance hall until he wrapped an arm around her side. She recognised his embrace, his neatly trimmed beard tickling her skin as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

‘Ready?’

She turned into him, leaning her forehead against his shoulder. ‘Not really,’ she admitted, reaching up to trace the edge of the arc reactor that glowed beneath his shirt. She sucked in a slow breath, steadying breath before she looked up to find his reassuring coffee-coloured gaze. ‘But I’ve waited long enough.’

Tony reached up, taking her hand. He turned away, entwining his fingers with hers, his grip an anchor which she clung to as the shar _click_ of heels approaching the lounge, voices drifting ahead of the footsteps.

‘Miss Potts, I appreciate your hospitality, but I can’t help but wonder… why does Mister Stark want to see me? I’ve looked at his files before. While surgery could theoretically be successful, the risks are significant–’

‘Mister Brooker, Tony didn’t ask you here to see him.’

Tony squeezed her hand tighter. The deep bruising in her knuckles ached, but she squeezed back, her nerves tangible in the air, mixed with the tingle of excitement – tiny, almost invisible sparks danced across the back of Tony’s hand. He would never get enough of the electricity that danced between them in every way. 

‘I’m not sure I understand. If not to see Mister Stark, why am I here?’

‘It’s not my place to explain.’

Tony winched; Danielle’s grip had tightened like a vice, squeezing until his fingers started to go numb. Pepper rounded the corner with a tall, immaculately dressed man whose features – even tinged with confusion – were so similar to Danielle’s that there was no denying his identity. In two years, not much had changed; his neat, chocolate coloured hair was perfectly swept back and coifed, but hints of silver rose from his short sideburns to thread along the sides of his head. Even nearing forty, he was still as slim and fit as he’d been in his twenties, wearing a crisp suit and tie – the tie she’d given him for his thirty-seventh birthday only a month and a half before she’d been forced into hiding.

When Alex’s gaze fell on Danielle he froze, teetering on the edge of the living area. In that moment, as the siblings laid eyes on each other for the first time in two years, the room became deafeningly silent until all Danielle could hear was blood rapidly pulsing through her. Her stomach flipped, her breath catching in her throat, her thoughts instantly turning to how angry he must be with her after–

‘Danni,’ he whispered, his voice breaking. He stumbled down the handful of steps towards her and she pulled from Tony’ grasp, her eyes burning with tears as he wrapped her in a bone breaking embrace, but though pain rippled through her, she was overwhelmed by happiness as he lifted her off her feet. ‘I thought… God, I was so afraid that you were dead.’

‘I’m sorry. I had to keep you safe,’ she said, grip so tight around his neck that she feared she may choke him, but she couldn’t let go, ‘I couldn’t let them have anything to use against you,’

‘You have _nothing_ to apologise for. All that matters is you’re alive.’ He pulled back from her, catching her face in his hands. ‘It’s all over the news. Your old bosses – hell, the entire board and some of the upper management – they’ve been arrested. More and more charges have been announced with every bulletin. It’s an international scandal. You said you were going to make them pay, and... It’s really over, isn’t it?’

She smiled up at him. ‘It will be.’  

‘Does this mean that you can come home?’

‘I–’ she glanced at Tony– ‘Alex, I am home.’

Alex followed her gaze, easily catching the affection in Tony’s eyes and smile. He offered his hand and Tony grasped it firmly, a mutual understanding passing between them. ‘Thank you. I suppose it makes sense that Iron Man should be involved.’  

Danielle glanced at Tony, too, a smile crossing her lips. She took her brother’s arm and pulled him towards the balcony. ‘We have a lot to talk about, and we will,’ she said, ‘but first, there’s something I can finally show you… as long as you promise not to freak out.’

‘I put the worlds most advanced prosthetic heart in your body, operating in less than ideal circumstances–’

‘Understatement,’ she said as she stepped outside. The air that surrounded her was warm and heavy; the sun had set and storm clouds were rolling in toward the cliff face, blackening the sky until no stars shone through.

‘Danni, if I can keep my cool while I’m trying to save my sister’s life, I think I can handle anything you have to show me.’

Tony and Alex stayed undercover as the rain began to fall in heavy drops, quickly soaking her clothing. Alex went to close the distance between him and Danielle, but Tony grasped his arm. ‘You might want to stay back.’

Facing out to the water, Danielle leant on the balcony as the first sparks began to ignite the air around her, electricity tingling her skin. She could feel their gazes on her back, heard Alex gasp as the sparks glowed brighter, responding to the approaching storm as the first lightning strikes hit the bay. She became more energised with every strike, electricity seeming to course through her very veins.

Alex took a step back towards the house as the strikes came closer, but Tony gave him a reassuring glance as Danielle raised her arms. Before their eyes, the bangles Tony had made for her began to liquify, the drops rolling up her wrists to form shining tips on her fingers. The metal sang as she rolled her fingertips together, sparks spiking in the air as lightning rained down around the mansion. She unleashed the charge that built within her, electricity sparking in a blinding arc that met the stormy clouds above. A thrill of sensation rushed through as she discharged the excess energy stored in her heart, and as the storm bore down on the house she captured and absorbed every bolt of lightning the encroached on the balcony, absorbed more energy than she had ever been able to keep within her heart before again releasing it into the abyss below. 

For the first time since the clockwork heart became a part of her, she truly felt at peace with it. She could be with the people she loved so dearly without fear. She could be part of Alex’s life again, and she looked forward to building her new life with Tony, the first man she had ever truly allowed herself to love and be loved by in return. She could be herself – whoever she had become.

_I am free._

* * *

_Four Months Later_

It was quiet in the workshop apart from the soft _clinks_ and _clicks_ of tools against armour. Tony fidgeted with the piece, working to salvage parts from his previous suit as he turned his attention to the next generation. After such a catastrophic surge from the EMP disc and the devastating fight with Prosthesis, he had little hope that much would be recovered, but he thought it worth trying now that life was beginning to return to some sense of normalcy – whatever ‘normal’ really was.

He’d hardly paid attention to working on the Iron Man suits since then, all his focus turned to establishing a new division at Stark Industries: prosthetic research. Bringing Danielle back to life hadn’t been an easy task, either, but they’d agreed it was a worthwhile one. She’d acted as the key witness in the high-profile case against the APRDC, her testimony and evidence forming yet another devastating blow to the organisation heads. There’d been death threats, sure, but she had nothing to fear anymore. With the APRDC’s power base reduced to dust and ash, no one could do more than mumble their frustrations. Tony also insisted that the knowledge that Iron Man/Tony Stark was her bodyguard/boyfriend acted as a good deterrent in the absence of revealing that Danielle Brooker was the secret alter ego of the Alchemist, the vigilante that haunted the dreams of Los Angeles’ criminal element.

Unfortunately, it seemed she wasn’t as keen to reveal her secret identity to the world as he’d been.

He placed a glove on the desk, bending down to pick up one of the forearm sections. Much like the rest of the armour he’d examined so far, the paint and metal were badly scratched from the fight with Prosthesis. He brushed some grit off the top of the wrist gauntlet, his gaze catching on a distinctive mark. At first he thought it was simply damage – after all, most of the surface was covered in nicks and even dents – but then he focused his gaze and saw a small heart etched perfectly into the armour. The clean lines left no doubt in his mind: Danielle had formed the symbol on the night they’d infiltrated the complex, a small token of her love in the face of great danger. 

He smiled, brushing his fingers over the heart, and he heard light footsteps pad down the stairs towards him. The rich aroma of fresh coffee tantalised his senses, and the air seemed to crackle with energy in anticipation of her arrival. She hummed softly, the tune they’d slow danced to all those months ago drifting to his ears, and when he turned his chair to look at her, he saw that her sweet smile had a wicked edge, her vibrant eyes filling with sparks when she met his gaze.

 

**~ The End ~**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading _Clockwork Heart_ <3


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